Dragon Ball Z: Pride Before A Fall
by SwanofWar
Summary: A heavily researched fanfiction of how Vegeta and Bulma's relationship developed, making the most earnest attempt to be as true to the show and its characters as possible. Takes place between Z Warrior's Prepare and The Androids Arrive.
1. Chapter 1

Vegeta collapsed. Not like the dozens of times before he'd collapsed that week within the Capsule Corp vessel. This time, as he kicked the gravity up to five hundred times earth's gravity, only moments after he forced himself into the air the blood rushed from his head and he hit the floor with crushing force. It was like being trampled underfoot by half a dozen oozarus at once. He could feel his bones crack under the pressure, his internal organs bruised to the breaking point. He was certain he could feel something in his gut split open.

Still, Vegeta snarled and tried to force himself back up as he always did. He bared his teeth, growling and hissing like a beast, his brow welded together with rage. But this time, it wasn't enough. This time, no amount of fury could make his muscles piece together his broken bones. This time, no matter how hard he dwelled on the disgusting image of Kakarot's golden hair, his will couldn't overcome the weight pulling him down.

His roars of rage cracked into groans and cries of agony, his face hitting the floor once again, blood dripping as his teeth clattered together. He actually felt like he was going to die. Was this it? Would he truly crumble into a broken heap on some worthless planet chasing after that fool who had somehow managed to surpass him? The very thought filled him with rage again. He screamed, a hurricane of power blazing around him. The warning sirens of the ship began to blare, red lights flashing everywhere.

And then he heard it: her voice, screaming over the comm. "You idiot! What do you think you're doing?!" Bulma shouted at him, "Why do you keep doing this, you're going to get yourself killed!" Vegeta barely lifted his head just enough to see her face on the screen again, glaring down at him with disapproval. He tried to open his mouth to respond, but could only manage several pained gasps and grunts before his cheekbone struck the ground again. Bulma's angry gaze fell into one of shock and concern. "Oh my God, are you okay?! Hold on, Vegeta, I can turn it off!"

Bulma spun wildly in her chair to her computer, sending the shut down command to the ship. After the incident where Vegeta blew up the last ship, she'd made sure this one had remote commands. Vegeta gasped as unexpected breath filled his lungs, the gravity of the ship no longer crushing them. Unwilling to just lay there, he began to crawl towards the door.

Before he reached it, Bulma came bursting in, her bright blue hair that she kept in that ridiculous afro these days frazzled with worry. "Vegeta!" she cried, dropping down by him.

Vegeta growled and groaned, finally giving up moving and rolling onto his side, gasping as a sharp jolt of pain shot through his ribs. "Can't…" he choked, trembling with frustration.

Bulma lowered her brow at him. "Oh you've really done it this time. Look at you!"

"Bulma," he grunted, one of his eyes sealed shut.

She pursed her lips and Yamcha came running in, his faithful companion Puar hovering at his shoulder as usual. "Oh no! Vegeta's done it again!" squeaked the little blue feline.

"Yamcha, can you help me?" Bulma asked, taking Vegeta's head in her lap, "I don't think he can even move this time!"

Yamcha's sore gaze shifted down to the Saiyan, giving a bitter sigh. "Yeah, sure." He took Vegeta's legs in his arms, his mouth tight. He didn't even know if she had noticed herself, but he'd seen the way she kept looking at Vegeta, even now as she wrapped her arms under him and let his head rest on her shoulder. The gentle, caring look she bestowed on his battered face was almost unbearable for him to look at. And the worst part was, he wasn't certain she had _ever_ looked at him that way in their entire relationship.

"Come on, tough guy, hold it together," Bulma encouraged, pressing her fingers to Vegeta's bandaged forehead.

Vegeta muttered incoherently as they carried him into the Capsule Corp mansion, returning him to the same bed they'd been trying to get him to stay in since his first accident a few weeks ago. It was all ready for him, complete with oxygen mask, bandages, IV, and whatever else they'd need to keep him alive. Yamcha and Puar backed up towards the door as Bulma got to nursing the Saiyan prince, placing the oxygen mask over his face and wrapping bandages tightly around his torso and limbs.

"Do you…need anything else, Bulma?" Yamcha begrudgingly asked.

Bulma looked back at him and smiled. Yes, there it was, that sweet smile he loved. It stung. "No, Yamcha. Thank you. Except…well maybe you better tell Dad we're gonna need a lot more medicine this time."

"If he even survives this time," Yamcha muttered, leaving to do as she asked.

"Oh dear…" whined Puar, giving Vegeta and Bulma one last look before following.

Vegeta growled and groaned, his eyes held tightly shut. Bulma pulled up a chair and watched over him as she had every bed-ridden evening. Vegeta continued to stir restlessly, lost in a nightmare made of pain instead of dreams.

"Well, at least he didn't break anything this time," observed her father, Dr. Brief, carrying in the requested medicine. His shoulder cat mewed and he stroked its chin. "Well, aside from his own back that is."

"It's unbelievable, Dad," Bulma marveled. Her brow lowered. "And stupid. But incredible at the same time. I can't believe he's lasted this long."

"Like I said," Dr. Brief shook a finger, "A few nuts short. But quite the strong fellow, I have to admit."

"It's strange," Bulma stated, gazing down at Vegeta's quivering face, "It hurts looking at him."

"Hmm?" Her father raised a brow. "What do you mean by that, Bulma?"

"I don't know," she sighed, "Every time he does this, I get so mad at him. But at the same time, I feel so bad."

"Well, you're a sweet girl, Bulma," Dr. Brief eventually concluded, "And he's honestly lucky to have you around. I sure hope he knows that."

He left her with these words. Bulma got herself some cold water to drink and continued to wait at Vegeta's side. She had to admit, that training seemed to be doing the trick. His muscles had gotten so much larger and tighter than they had since he'd first arrived there. He was stockier than ever! Yet, somehow, he didn't see this at all. Every day, no matter his condition, he just walked back into that ship like he had a death wish or something.

After some hours, whatever was tormenting him seemed to finally pass. Vegeta's dark eyes opened, shifting over to where Bulma sat, passing the time by tinkering with some gadget. His brow lowered. "You…why is it always you?"

Bulma looked up from her work and put her hands on her hips. "Well look who's finally awake. You nearly killed yourself this time, you know that? I keep trying to tell you, but you just won't listen." She glared at him. "Well? You got anything to say for yourself?" Vegeta just groaned and looked away. "That's fine, cause I got something that'll make _sure_ you stay in bed this time." She reached into a drawer and held up a particularly shiny syringe. "I didn't want to use this, but you leave me with no choice. This drug will paralyze you, so you won't be _able_ to leave the bed until you're better!"

Vegeta's eyes shifted to her again briefly. "Don't bother."

"Huh?" she said with a start.

His battered hand reached up and removed the oxygen mask from his face. "I said don't bother. I'm not going anywhere. There's no point." He glared off at the wall. "I've reached my limits. I can't push myself any further." His fist tightened against the blankets.

Bulma lowered the syringe and her face softened. "Now don't say that. Sure, you pushed yourself to the breaking point, but that doesn't mean you can't get stronger!" She stooped down and smiled. "Just you wait and see! You let yourself get better again and I bet you'll find you're stronger than ever! Who knows, maybe you'll even be able to do six hundred times gravity!"

Vegeta grunted. "There's no need to mock me."

"But I'm not!" she insisted. She put the syringe away. "I really mean it. You're a super strong, super tough guy. I think you can do just about anything you put your mind to. But you gotta let yourself rest first!"

The saiyan warrior was silent for a long moment. Then his gaze shifted again to give her a very direct look. "Why are you here?"

"Huh?" she blinked, "This is my house, silly, of course I'm here."

"No," he growled, "I mean why are you _here_? Why are you always here when I wake up?"

"I…" She blinked some more. "I just want to make sure you're okay. You're always so hard on yourself."

"Make sure I'm okay?" She moved back, startled to see him sit up. "Why would you care if I'm okay or not? Don't you know who I am? I'm Vegeta, the Prince of All Saiyans, the one who tried to blow your miserable planet up."

"Well...nobody's perfect, I guess."

"Nobody's—gah!" He cried out, clutching his chest and falling against the pillow again.

She drew close to him once more. "Besides, Goku seems to believe in you."

He opened a single eye to glare at her. "Don't mention that stupid, bumbling fool around me ever again."

"Don't you get all huffy with me," she scolded, looking dangerous, "Or I'll use that syringe after all."

"Mmmrrr…" he growled, glaring at her from the corner of his eye.

She smiled victoriously. "That's better." She pulled up her chair and started working on the device again. "Now, Dad brought you some new medicine that should get you back on your feet _if_ you spend at least a few days in bed. You really did it this time, you know. What were you thinking, increasing the gravity to five hundred? You were barely able to move under four fifty! Seriously, there's a line between determination and sheer stupidity."

Vegeta said nothing, merely grunting stubbornly at her remarks. Though he loathed to admit it, perhaps she did have some points. The truth was, he had hoped by pushing himself into and beyond the breaking point, he would at long last achieve what he'd always dreamed of – the dream that had been stolen from him by Kakarot and that other mysterious Saiyan – the level of Super Saiyan. It was all he cared about anymore.

But who was to say that _this_ was his limits? There had to be ways he could push himself even farther! Given some time, he would surely think of how. But, in the meantime, he supposed there was no reason he couldn't spend a few days recovering his strength. He cracked his eyes open, looking at the device Bulma was applying a screwdriver to.

"What is that?" he asked, "That thing you're working on?"

"Something I'm _hoping_ will keep you from further trying to kill yourself," Bulma grunted pointedly. She held it up, shutting one eye to give her work a good inspection. "I don't even know if it will work, but I'm willing to try anything at this point."

Vegeta lifted his head off the pillow with interest. "What's it supposed to do?"

"Well in theory, once added to the ship, it should help increase the density and resistance of the air. That way you can get a more strenuous workout without trying to make Saiyan pancakes." She rubbed her chin. "Come to think of it, I should try improving the training AI too. Every little bit helps."

Vegeta's expression deepened. "Really. You really think you could manage all that?"

Bulma winked at him. "You bet I can! I'm not just a pretty face, you know, I'm quite good with this stuff." She added a part to the device.  
Vegeta started to smile. And then he started to chuckle that deep raspy chuckle of his.

"Huh?" Bulma looked up. "What is it now?"

"All this time I thought it was my efforts that were failing. I never once considered the equipment might not be suitable for me." He closed his eyes and held a crooked smile. "Yes, a simple gravity change might be enough for that fool Kakarot, but I require a much more extensive training regimen."

"Yeah, that's the spirit!" she encouraged, mostly just glad to hear he was changing his mind about his training techniques, "With my brains and your brawn, we'll have you ready to smash those androids in no time!"

"We?" He looked at her sharply.

She put her hands on her hips again. "Well yeah, you didn't think you could do this all on your own, did you?"

Vegeta growled. "A true Saiyan warrior needs no help from anyone."

Her brow knitted and she smiled smugly. "Oh really? Well this Saiyan warrior has sure been making a lot of use out of my father's equipment. And I don't see you repairing those drones you keep breaking. Face it, tough guy, if you really want to be a Super Saiyan, I'm your best bet in getting there."

Vegeta glared at her for a long moment and then suddenly busted up laughing.

"What? Stop that!" Bulma pouted and stomped, "Why are you laughing like that?"

"You're really so sure of yourself, aren't you?" he cackled, holding his gut and then gave her another of his crooked smiles, "I admire your spirit. Were you a Saiyan rather than a mere Human, you just might make a fine warrior."

Bulma held up a hand by her cheek to cover up her blush. "Me? A warrior? Spirit?" She melted a little inside but then steadied herself, giving him a serious look again. "At least you're finally showing me a little respect now. That's a first."

His smile flattened and he snorted. "Hmph. Don't get used to it."

"Right," she smiled, "Well, you should really get some rest now. Might even try to get some sleep for once!"

Vegeta's perpetually cross brow lowered. "I'm not tired," he grunted, rolling onto his side away from her.

Bulma gave him an obstinate look. "Well of course you are—" Her face turned concerned. "Oh…you're afraid you're going to have nightmares again, aren't you?"

"Grrr, I don't have nightmares!" he snapped at her.

"Yes you do!" she snapped back at him, her own brow knitting, "Don't try to deny it, I've been sitting at your bedside every night tending to you and I've seen how you sleep!"

"Garr! Why are you always here?!"

"Why do you care where I am and I'm not?!"

"Why won't you just leave me alone?!"

"Why are you such a spoiled brat?!"

"Ah! Why you—!"

"Sandwiches!" Mrs. Brief cheerfully announced, her face frozen its usual happy upturn as she carried in a tray. Vegeta and Bulma didn't look at her, but continued to glare at each other and Mrs. Brief stopped. "Oh my! Did I interrupt something?"

Bulma growled at Vegeta. "Sorry, Mom, we're not really hungry right now."

"Oooh, I see," she cooed, touching a hand to her cheek, "You two want some time alone. Ah, to be young…"

Bulma turned aside, her arms crossed as her mom left and Vegeta did much the same, grunting loudly.

"Hmph!" Bulma upturned her nose. For a long moment, there was silence. "You want some water?" she finally blurted.

"Yes," he snapped back.

Bulma got her cup off the desk. Vegeta tried to grab it from her, but she moved past his scabbed fingers and took his shoulder, sitting him up and bringing the glass to his mouth. Vegeta grunted at her again, but downed the glass all the same.

"Now," she sat the glass aside, "Get some sleep or lay there and grumble, do whatever you want, just get some rest." She eased him back onto the pillow.  
He groaned, shutting his eyes for a moment before looking at her sharply again. "I _will_ defeat Kakarot," he promised.

To his surprise, she smiled at him. "Of course you will."


	2. Chapter 2

To everyone in the Capsule Corp Mansion's relief, at long last Vegeta remained bedridden for a few days. No more waiting for something to explode, no more fear of having to scrap Saiyan guts off the capsule ship's floor. Everyone was at peace, except perhaps Yamcha, who every time he turned around found Bulma either at Vegeta's bedside or working on equipment to enhance his training. He didn't understand. Things hadn't always worked out between them, he knew that, but why him? Why the alien who'd been responsible for his death? Didn't she even care? Sadly, only Puar seemed to notice his pain and he drowned the rest in continuing his own training.

As for Vegeta, though he allowed his body to rest, his mind continued to remain restless. Nearly his every waking moment was filled with thoughts of Kakarot, the obsession was maddening. What was it? What was it that had allowed Kakarot to increase his power so immensely in such a short time? He had to know. He would know! He wouldn't stop until he'd uncovered that fool's secret and beaten him at his own game.

And there was something else – one little grain that manage to continually slip into his mind and disrupt his brooding: that strange blue haired human girl who seemed constantly at his side. She was yet another riddle that managed to confound him. She could be horribly annoying, and yet he found, in a way, he enjoyed her company. Her cleverness, her gall, her determination, he found it all oddly inspiring. And every time he rebuked her, she returned the favor with unstoppable zeal. She was…an enigma.

It was in all these ponderings, dwelling on Kakarot and drifting to Bulma, than an idea struck him. Perhaps, the answer to both these riddles lied somewhere between his opponent and this Human girl. After all, she had said on multiple occasions that she had known Kakarot – or "Goku" as she liked to call him – since he was a little boy. Could the answer have been staring him in the face this whole time? Could she know something that would reveal the secret to his nightmares?

By the third day, he was determined to find out. He felt his strength returning and refused to stay bedridden any longer. He wanted to return to training, but Bulma insisted she wasn't finished upgrading the ship for him. Fine. Instead, he would take this day to investigate.

Vegeta stood in his room, unwrapping some of the bandages from his arm and testing out his strength. He lifted a corner of his mouth. Turns out Bulma had been right, a few days of rest and he already felt immensely stronger. He tried a few practice punches and kicks, stirring the air so much it blew all of Bulma's tools off the desk. He chuckled victoriously and then frowned with frustration. Stronger, yes, but it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough until he'd obtained the legend.

"Oh there you are, Vegeta!" Vegeta's face turned into the embodiment of tightness as Bulma's airhead mother barged in, carrying a tray as usual. "Oh Vegeta, you simply must try these dumplings, they're to die for!"

"Gaah! No!" he steamed at her, clenching his fists, "I do not want dumplings!"

Mrs. Brief smiled warmly as he stormed past her. "What a decisive man. Bulma sure is a lucky girl!"

Vegeta ducked around a corner and waited for the aggravating woman to go away, not wanting to risk her spotting him again and causing him even more grief. Once she's hummed along on her way, his brow lowered and he gazed intently down the hall to where he knew Bulma's room was.  
He slipped inside, growling softly as his eyes shifted around. "There has to be something in here that will give me a clue. One single blasted clue, that's all I need."

He stepped over some of her belongings and grumbled. Well one thing was clear, she was a complete slob. She had tools, bolts, and feminine bits scattered all over the place! He did his best to ignore this and began to search her drawers. What he needed was something old of hers, something from Kakarot's past. Anything that would reveal to him what about his life here on Earth had empowered him so. He leaned down and sniffed deeply, searching for anything that might possibly carry the faint odor of Kakarot's scent.

Getting frustrated, he shoved a pile of junk aside, snarling. It was then he noticed it – an old framed photograph. He hummed deeply, picking it up and narrowing his brow at it. It was clearly a picture from Kakarot's childhood, Bulma and him were on a roadside somewhere posing together. It was definitely him, even without the tail he would recognized that ridiculous smile of his anywhere. Vegeta stared at the young Saiyan's tail for a moment, a deep rumble emerging in his throat as he felt at the stubby bump in his pants that had once been his tail.

He didn't miss it as much as it stood as a constant reminder of how Kakarot had first brought him to shame and stolen his glory. It should never have happened, he'd always kept his tail protected, wrapped tightly around his waist and out of harm's way. No one had ever been able to lay a finger on it, not once had a single person ever exploited that natural weakness. And now it was gone. He tried to forget about it, but sometimes it almost felt like it was still there, mocking him. Child Saiyans could regrow their tails in time, but his would never return. But he'd make sure the same would never be said of his honor.

"And what exactly are _you_ doing in here?"

Vegeta choked and snarled, freezing and his eyes shifting tensely to the door, seeing Bulma standing there, goggles on her forehead and wearing mechanic gloves.

"I mean, it's good to see you on your feet again, but what are you doing in my room? Don't you know it's rude to go into someone's bedroom uninvited?"  
His cheekbones turned red and he turned on her, teeth bared. "Gah! It's nothing! I can go anywhere I want, why do you always have to ask so many questions?! Grrr…"

She laughed and lowered her brow, meeting his challenge. "Nothing, huh? Then why are you looking through my underwear draw? I didn't take you for one of _those_ guys, Vegeta."

"Guh-ah!" he cried, his face turning redder as he realized he had been. "What are you crazy?! No!" he screamed at her, "I don't care about your stupid panties!"

"And what do you got there in your hand, give me that!" She snatched the picture from his hand. "I knew you could be unbelievably rude, but I thought at least you would know better than to touch other people's stuff."

"What—did—you—arrgggghhh!"

"Hmph!" Bulma turned up her nose at him and then looked at the picture. "Oh…why would you be looking at this?" She smiled at it. "Gosh, those were the days. I mean, I had terrible hair back then, but what adventures we had! Goku always was pretty amazing, even way back then."

Vegeta grunted loudly, turning away and folding his arms. "Yes, so incredibly amazing," he stated sarcastically and bitterly.

Bulma looked at him. "Well he's not the only one who is. All you Saiyans are pretty amazing. Especially you, Vegeta."

"Oh really?" he challenged, "And how am I 'so amazing' to you?"

This time, it was Bulma's turn to feel her ears turning pink. Her insides were jelly again. "Well," she turned away, setting the photo down and putting a hand to her face, "I can't say I've ever seen anyone work even half as hard as you do. You're so determined, you know exactly what you want and you never let anyone stand in your way, even to the point of pigheadedness. And you're really sincere too, you just say exactly what you mean."

He lifted a corner of his mouth. "Hmph. Well…"

"And you never care what anyone thinks about you. Even me."

Bam! The redness hit his face again like a sucker punch. "Mmmummrrmmmumm…" he grunted, his expression staggering.

She turned around, leaning gently back against her dresser, letting her own light blush show. "Honestly…you're the most amazing guy I've ever met." Her big blue eyes looked up at him and he found himself choking down how much they startled him. "That's why I don't get why you let Goku bother you so much. There's no reason why you should be worrying all the time about him or anyone else being better than you. I mean, it's like you keep saying, you're the Prince of All Saiyans. Goku's not a prince and he never will be, that's you and you alone. You're incredible and you always will be and someday, I just know you'll be the best."

Vegeta continued to stutter and choke, staring at her. "You really mean that?"

"I really do," she insisted.

"How? Why?" he stuttered, "I don't understand."

Her blush returned and she moved to the side. "Well…I guess I could show you." Her hand nervously locked the door behind her back.

His brow narrowed. "Show me? Whatever could you possibly mean?"

"Well…" her lips quivered, moving awkwardly towards him, "I guess it's like this….I… um…." She grabbed him by his large ears and kissed him.

Vegeta's eyes bulged and without thinking he knocked her away with a swipe of his hand, making her collide with the back wall, adding a nice crater to the decor. "What the hell do you think you're doing, woman?!" he cried, his face a bright beet red.

"That was called a kiss, you dumb ass!" Bulma screamed back, flopped over in a heap, "What the hell do you think I was doing?!"

"I don't know, you tell me!"

"What kind of guy hits a girl after she kisses him?!"

"Gah! I don't know! What are you trying to do to me?!"

"Grrrr!" she screeched, getting up and pulling at her hair, "You are so stupid, you know that?! Now apologize to me, right now!"

"I don't have to apologize for anything! You're the one who grabbed me like that!"

"Well _fine_!" she shouted, crossing her arms and leaning into his face, "Sorry I disgust you so! You act like you've never been kissed before!" Vegeta's jaw snapped shut and he grunted uncomfortably, his eyes shifting downward. Bulma's face fell. "Oh my God…you haven't. Why…you've never even _touched_ a girl before, have you?"

"Mmmrmm," he growled at her, the red spreading over the bridge of his nose, "What do you think?! My planet was blown up, as far as I know every female Saiyan is _dead_! And besides, I'm a warrior, I don't have time for such petty interests."

Her blue brow lowered at him again. "Huh! Well if you _really_ want to know what the difference between you and Goku is, you got it right there. Goku _always_ makes time for the people he cares about!"

Vegeta suddenly froze, his eyes growing wide with disbelief. "You're…right," he stuttered.

Could that really be it? Could it _really_ be that simple? His mind flashed through all his memories of Kakarot, the way he stretched out his hand to his son during their encounter, how the cheers of his friends always urged him on as he fought. Was that really it? The thing that had allowed a low class warrior to surpass him…the fact that he had someone worth fighting for?

Vegeta's eyes slowly shifted to Bulma's accusing face. "I'm….sorry I hit you."

"Duaaah!" Bulma's eyes spun circles and she fell backwards on the floor, her legs twitching in the air. "Wha…he…really…does…have a…sweet side…ehehehe…."  
Vegeta snorted and rolled his eyes at her. "Well?"

Bulma got back up, a red ribbon running over her nose and he could almost swear he saw hearts coming out of the top of her head. "Well…" She pointed cheekily. "There's…um…a shirtless man in my room…hehehe…" Vegeta's eyes shifted to the side. Bulma's shoulders fell and she gave him a look. "There's a _shirtless man_ in my _room_." His eyes shifted to the other side. Bulma clenched her fingers and growled. "Grrrr, oh just come here, you idiot!"

She jumped on him, tossing her goggles aside, throwing her arms around him, and beginning to kiss him. Vegeta stumbled back, his arms flailing about, unsure of what to do with them. Bulma ran her fingers up through his hair as she kissed him – oh that amazing, stupid hair of his! Saiyan hair was so coarse and thick, and Vegeta's was especially so, strong like horse hair.

Vegeta nervously cracked open an eye, looking down at the Human woman clinging to him so. He grunted, trying to figure out what to do with himself. Bulma giggled and kissed him repeatedly across his face. And then he felt her hand slip down, her fingers brushing across the bump that had once been his tail. Vegeta grunted high and loud, his brow shooting up. His mouth opened, something clicking inside him. Something feral in his Saiyan nature.

"Mmm…" Bulma sighed happily, leaning against his chest.

Suddenly, Vegeta's large hands seized her shoulders, making her yelp with surprise. He looked intensely down at her, half his face lifted in a grin and chuckling deeply. "All this time, I was trying so hard…and the answer was right in front of me…you…Bulma."

"Uh…ah…" Bulma swooned, all the blood rising her face and stars in her eyes.

Vegeta clenched his teeth as his chuckle darkened, his eyes full of plots, mischief, and excitement. Not only was this going to be incredibly easy…he just might enjoy himself as well. It was Bulma's turn for her eyes to bulge as he pressed her fiercely to himself and started kissing her, almost _biting_ her really.

"Woah, wait!" she protested, failing her arms around, "That's not how you're supposed to—ah! That one hurt!"

Vegeta didn't respond other than with more chuckling and beginning to grow, just about crushing her as he held and kissed her. Bulma felt her face starting to turn blue. Good grief! Was this what it was like with _all_ Saiyans?!

"Vegeta!" she coughed, "That's too…!" Her brow finally lowered and she growled, slapping him across the face hard as she could.

It was like a feather bouncing off his cheek, but still he grunted and glared at her. "Oh now _you're_ the one who's hitting?" he accused.

"You are _crushing_ me!" she hissed at him.

He growled. "I don't need directions from you."

"Oh yes you do!" she shot back, "And you'd better listen up if you want this to go where I _think_ it's going!"

"Mmrr," he rumbled, "Fine." Perhaps not quite as easy as he thought.

He loosened his grip but Bulma put his arms back around her. "There now," she smiled and winked, "This is your first time, so I'll go easy on you."  
Vegeta blushed and let out several grunts. Taking instructions from a woman, how absurd. Still, he was determined to do this. This was the key. And if he had to put up with her prattling to ascend, so be it. Several passionate fumblings, abrupt arguments, and lots of grunts and growls from Vegeta later, they ended up on Bulma's bed. Vegeta viciously shoved a pile of junk aside and held her beneath him, cackling as she started to unbutton her shirt. He pressed his mouth to her neck, eyeing the old photo of Kakarot intensely as he chuckled and growled.

_This is it, Kakarot. I will make your old friend mine, and with her driving me, my power will increase immensely, far surpassing yours. Next time we battle, you will fall, and I will reclaim the glory that is rightfully mine._


	3. Chapter 3

It was early morning when Vegeta woke up – dark and for a moment he forgot where he was. His mouth hung half open, blinking at the ceiling till he turned his head to the side and saw Bulma, snuggled against his arm, sleeping lost in contentment. He continued to stare at her as his mind cleared and then he smiled, giving a proud chuckle.

He'd done it. He'd won Bulma's affections. Now the only question remained was how far to take it? That would really depend, of course, on how this little affair had affected him. He had to find out. Slipping his arm out of her cuddles, he got out of the bed. Most of the bandages had come loose during the night so he tore the rest of them off, holding up his hand and flexing his fingers.

He tightened his brow and grinned, clenching his hands into fists. Yes! It had worked! He felt stronger already! Vegeta began to cackle, pointing his palm at the nearby window, beginning to charge a ball of warbling energy. His laughter grew stronger as it grew until it shot out through the window, shattering the glass and exploding in the sky. Vegeta let the light wash over him with satisfaction, the breeze from the broken window quivering over his hair.

Suddenly, Bulma groaned. Vegeta froze, his eyes jerking to her with a cringe. He waited, but she just sprayed out on the bed, opened her mouth, and began to snore. He gave her an obnoxious look, snorting and beginning the search for his pants. The search didn't last long, as he noticed that his combat uniform, minus the armored chest piece, lay washed and out for him. Bulma must have gotten them while he slept…or God forbid, her mother. He held them up and sniffed them, recoiling with disgust. No, it had been her mother! That blundering pea brain had come in here while they were sleeping! Blast it all, she must have had a key!

Vegeta clenched his fist around the clothes as he growled with disgust, his face falling into a simple frown as he let it go. Whatever, small price to pay to surpass Kakarot. Ignoring the honey scent, he pulled on his pants, slipping his tank top over his head, stepping into his boots and straightening and tucking so that the top and pants became solid as one. Lastly, he reached for his white combat gloves, pulling one over his right hand and watching it stretch against his knuckles.

"Well, look at you," Bulma cooed. Vegeta stopped and growled, his back to her as she sat up in bed, "Normally, it'd be extremely impolite to let a girl wake up alone, but I'll let it slide this time."

Vegeta grunted. "Go back to sleep."

"Oh I will," she assured, bracing her chin and elbow against the bed, "I just got a question I wanted to ask you." He said nothing, reaching for his other glove. "Sooo…how was it? Your first time?" She saw the blush touch his ears and she tipped back her head in a loud laugh.

He growled. "Stop that! Stop that now!"

But she kept on laughing, touching her mouth to finish with a giggle. "Well, I have to say, when I imagined spending the night with a Saiyan, I had figured you'd last a bit longer. But at least it was intense!" She started laughing again.

"Mmmrrr! I did just fine!"

"Oh of course you did, really, I'm just teasing. You should learn to lighten up, Vegeta."

"Hmph." He pulled his other glove on.

Bulma blinked. "Are you heading out to train already?"

"Yes. Is there a problem with that?"

She narrowed her brow a bit. "No, it was just a question. If you want to use the ship again, I got all the upgrades installed and it seems to work…hey are you listening to me?"

Vegeta stood still and perfectly silent, gazing intently at his right hand. He hummed and removed his glove. "Bulma. I'm going to ask you again that question I asked you before. And I want to know the absolute truth." He turned to face her, his look grave and the glove clenched at his side. "Did you really mean it? Do you believe in my strength as the Prince of All Saiyans and my destiny to be the greatest warrior in the universe?"

Bulma's mouth hung open for a moment, taken aback by his sudden seriousness. She blinked a few times, finally turning serious herself. "Yeah, I did mean it. What do you take me for, a liar?"

He stared at her with his hard gaze. "Very well. If that truly is the case…" He held out his arm and opened his palm, extending the removed glove to her. "Then take my glove and keep it on your person until night falls again. You have until then to decide. If your change your mind before then, return it to me."

Bulma fell into a gaze of amazement once more, taking the offered glove and looking at it. "Wow, Vegeta…that's really sweet and sentimental of you!" She smiled and winked. "I knew there was more to you than that rough exterior."

"Don't read too much into it, woman," he snarled, "Just do as I instruct."

"Fair enough," she smiled, laying the glove over her shoulder. He turned to walk away and she loudly cleared her throat. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Grr, what now?"

"_Well_, when you spend time with a girl, you really should give her a kiss before going."

"Are you really going to keep wasting my time with your games?"

"Don't give me lip. I put up with your bruising me pretty badly a few hours ago, I deserve one little kiss."

He folded his arms and glared away from her with a grunt. "Fine. Whatever you say. But if you really want it so badly you're going to have to come over here to get it."

Bulma met his challenge, getting out from the bed and walking towards him. Vegeta's eyes shifted to the side, taking in her naked form, a faint blush appearing on his cheekbones. Bulma grabbed his arms and put them around her, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. Vegeta's brow lifted slightly as her lips wrapped around his and he kissed her back, his grip on her back tightening, one hand gloved the other bare.

_Is this it?_ he wondered, _Is this what it feels like to care for someone?_

Bulma ran her fingers through his hair – she seemed to enjoy doing that – and pulled back at last. "Now, you better get busy with that training. I expect you to be able to smash those androids all by yourself!"

Vegeta grew a crooked grin. "Oh don't worry…I will."

It seemed he had chosen well, after all. She was truly perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

When Bulma finally decided to get up that morning, it was with a new-found energy. She zipped over to her closet, humming to herself as she argued over different outfits. Once she had made up her mind and gotten dressed, she suddenly decided she hated her hair. Time to change it again! She popped open a capsule full of hair care products and got to work, ironing and pulling and snipping until she came up with a new look she was satisfied with - straight, parted slightly to the side, and somewhat short. Finally she threw some make-up into the mix and found a new Bulma smiling into the mirror.

And then there was the glove. She picked it up and looked it over, trying to figure how to best "keep it on her person." It was without a doubt the sweetness thing Vegeta had ever done and perhaps the sweetness thing he would ever do so there was no way she'd pass this up. She tried to figure a way of incorporating it into her outfit, but finally settled on just neatly folding it and tucking it into her pocket. She squared her hips and gave herself one last inspection, flicking a hair out of her eyes, before heading out into the house.

Bulma was still humming as her mother came in from watering the garden, their two hums beginning to coincide as Mrs. Brief put the watering can away.

"Oh, Bulma! You look absolutely adorable this morning!"

Bulma kicked up her feet on the living room coffee table, stretching out her arms over the couch.

"Morning, Bulma!" waved a little piggy, walking past and hoping up into a chair to read a magazine.

"Good morning, Oolong," Bulma smiled brightly back, "Morning, Mom."

"Ooh, strawberry shortcake!" Oolong remarked, seeing a partly eaten cake on the table and taking a large slice for himself.

"Take as much as you like, Mr. Oolong," Mrs. Briefs tittered, "I had it brought over from the store when I heard you were visiting! Bulma, now I know you're dieting right now, but you simply must—"

"Looks great, thanks, Mom!" Bulma chirped back, getting a piece with a large strawberry. Both Oolong and Mrs. Brief blinked at her several times as she filled her cheeks.

"My goodness!" Mrs. Brief remarked, "That's the first time I've seen you eat like that in weeks!"

"And they call me a pig," Oolong snorted and oinked.

As Bulma forked up the cake, Yamcha and Puar also wandered in, Puar squeaking her morning greetings and Yamcha dabbing the sweat from his morning workout from his forehead.

"Hey, Bulma," said Yamcha sheepishly, lowering his arm, "Gee, you sure look great today."

"I feel great," Bulma assured them all, getting another slice of cake.

Now Yamcha and Puar took turns looking at each other, Puar landing on Yamcha's shoulder as he went to the fridge to get a drink. Bulma sat her plate of cake aside and got out her small personal computer, flipping it open. The screen came on, revealing Vegeta in the Capsule ship, training hard, back down to four hundred times gravity and tackling the reprogrammed drones with new zeal. Bulma rested her head on her hand, sighing happily. Yamcha returned with his drink, tipping it back as he eyed the screen.

"He seems to be doing a lot better now after taking that rest," Yamcha observed, "Maybe we can all relax finally."

"That Vegeta can be pretty scary," Puar had to agree.

"Mmm..." Bulma hummed, "I programmed the new AI to challenge his motor skills. Raw strength won't be enough if you guys are gonna be taking on super tough _and_ advance androids."

"That's great and all," Yamcha said skeptically, "But how do we know he'll even show up to help us fight the androids?"

Bulma shot him a glare that turned him to butter. "Don't even say that! Besides, you don't know Vegeta. He'd never pass up a chance to test his strength."

"But Bulma," Yamcha stuttered, "It's not like you know him either."

"Oh yeah, and how would you know that anyhow?" Bulma snapped, melting him further.

Oolong snorted as they bickered, returning to his magazine. He turned a page and glanced up again briefly, about to return to reading when he noticed something white poking out of Bulma's pocket. His floppy ears rose with curiosity. He'd never known Bulma to, but he'd heard that some girls kept spare panties in their pockets. He grinned slyly at the thought, the tip of his pink snout turning red. Come to think of it, it'd been a while since he'd added to his collection or practiced professional pantie snatching.

His fingers began to itch and twitch and finally he gave in, getting on his hands and knees and crawling over towards Bulma as she yelled at Yamcha. He giggled and snorted, grinning as he wiggled his fingers towards his prize. He pinched delicately the white flap of cloth and victoriously yanked it out of her pocket, holding it high over his head. But his face fell flat as he found it wasn't a pantie at all, his ears lowering and grunting.

"Hey, give me that!" Bulma turned on Oolong, snatching the glove back and smacking him with it, leaving a red mark on the pig's face.

Everyone jerked back at this abrupt event, staring with surprise at the glove in Bulma's hand.

"Jeez, sorry," Oolong grumbled, rubbing his cheek, "You don't have to take it so seriously, Bulma."

"Hey, isn't that Vegeta's glove?" squeaked Puar, hovering over her shoulder.

"I think you're right, Puar," Yamcha observed. He glanced at the screen where Vegeta could be seen training. "And come to think of it, Vegeta's only got one glove on today. Which is strange, cause he usually take them off when training." He looked at the glove again. "Why do you have it, Bulma?"

"It's a token of affection and none of your business," she huffed, folding her arms and turning away with the glove in hand.

"Well of course!" Mrs. Brief cheerful remarked, setting some flowers on the table, "Back in my day, it was a very common practice to keep a piece of clothing after spending the night together."

They all fell down.

"Mooooom!" Bulma yelled, throwing her arms down stiff.

"You can't be serious, you and Vegeta?" Oolong snorted with shock.

"B...Bulma..." Yamcha stuttered, his eyes as large as saucers. He felt sick.

"Mmnnn!" Bulma growled, her brow twitching. Finally she snorted, turning up her nose. "Hmph! Fine. If you must know, yes, he's my boyfriend now."

"Uh...uhhh..." Yamcha's eyes and mouth twitched, "But...but Bulma!"

"But what?" she challenged, making him melt again, "As far as I'm concerned, it's nobody's business who I decide to date."

"I don't have a problem with it," Oolong assured, picking up his magazine, "After all, it's no skin off my nose."

"And what's that supposed to mean?!" Bulma screamed at him, blowing his ears back and finally off his chair.

_This is not good!_ thought Yamcha anxiously, _Bulma's being really stubborn about this! How am I ever going to talk her out of it?_

"I'm sooo happy for you, Bulma!" said Mrs. Briefs, putting her hands on her shoulders, "It's about time you had a real man in your life!" Yamcha collapsed blue faced into a chair. "Ooh, wait till I tell your father!"

Bulma lifted a corner of her mouth. "Thank, Mom." She shot the others a glare. "At least _someone_ respects my decisions!" They stared at her, mouths hanging slightly as she walked away. "Now if you excuse me..." She stepped into the kitchen and started to make herself a sandwich.

"Aaand that right there is exactly why I gave up on women," Oolong snorted, crossing his little pink arms.

"This just can't be happening..." Yamcha held his head.

"Eh, buck up," Oolong grunted nonchalantly, "She hasn't been your girlfriend for a long while now, time you stop worrying about her."

"I know that," his face fell, "But I still care about her and she's still my friend. I can't just be okay with her doing this. I mean, I'd rather she be with anyone, even you, Oolong, anyone but _him_!"

"Hey," Oolong oinked, insulted.

"I'm just really worried about her," Yamcha continued, slumping in his chair, "I mean, honestly, what's stopping this guy from taking over the earth or something?"

"I'm pretty sure as long as Goku's around he's not really a threat," Oolong assured.

"That's just it!" Yamcha protested, "What if something happens to Goku? If anything happens to Bulma cause of him I'll never forgive myself..."

"Oh Yamcha..." Puar consoled.

Bulma finished making her sandwich, humming again, and was about to make a meal of it when the door suddenly opened. Everyone in the living room froze, their eyes locked on the sweaty Vegeta as he entered, heading directly for the fridge, still wearing a single glove on his left hand. He opened the fridge deftly, pausing as Bulma cleared her throat, his eyes shifting to her. Bulma gave him a pretty little smile and pushed the plate with the sandwich over to him. He eyed the sandwich and then the glove hanging out of her pocket. He cracked a smile and took the sandwich, putting it in his mouth and walked back the way he came, looking downward broodingly. Their eyes continued to follow him and he paused, giving them a sharp look.

He took the bitten sandwich from his mouth. "And what are you all staring at?" he demanded.

Yamcha swallowed and Oolong snorked and rubbed his head, giving a uncomfortable grin. Vegeta grunted, stuck the sandwich back in his mouth, and left as abruptly as he'd came. The three in the living room gave big sighs of relief.

"We're doomed…" Yamcha mourned.

"Oh grow up, guys," Bulma scolded, "If he was going to blow you up he would have done it by now."

"Please don't even go there…" Yamcha warbled, getting nasty flashbacks of his painful death, "But that's not what I meant!"

Bulma growled and shook her head, returning to the kitchen to make herself another sandwich.

Oolong looked at Bulma as she left and then to Yamcha. "Well, you gotta admit one thing – she has a strange way with the guy."

"That's what worries me," Yamcha sighed, putting his head in his hands, "I thought if I gave her some space she'd get over this. But now…it's almost like they're _good_ together!"

Puar and Oolong just looked at each other.

The rest of the day carried on without incident. Bulma went shopping, Vegeta continued to train, and Yamcha dwelled on this new, impossible turn of events.

Late that evening, for the first time anyone could remember, Vegeta emerged from the Capsule Corp ship looking very alive, his injuries not unreasonable, and smiling as a droplet of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. He looked down at his gloved left hand, wiping the blood away with his right, chuckling darkly. There was nothing quite as sweet as success, of conquering an obstacle. Of course, he wasn't a Super Saiyan yet, but he could feel in his bones that this was the beginning of it. There was just one last, little thing to do.

Though Bulma had gotten back from shopping a while ago, she still wasn't done sorting through all she had bought. The items were laid out on her bed – an assortment of clothes, capsules, and mechanical parts. She held up one of her new blouses in front of her mirror, humming thoughtfully, before finally sitting it aside and beginning to sort her new capsules into her various carrying cases. She paused over one of the capsules she'd bought, pinching it between her fingers and scrutinizing it, wondering if she'd really be in need of a deep-sea submarine any time soon. Oh well, you never knew. She slipped the capsule into the case, her eyes bulging and her jaw tensing as her door abruptly slammed open.

Bulma spun around with a gasp, relaxing when she saw it was only Vegeta standing there, a smug grin on his face as he braced the door open. She blew out a calming breath and glared at him.

"Vegeta, don't come bursting in like that!" she scolded, her hands on her hips, "Don't think I didn't noticed you broke my window today. And you dented my wall last night. Now you about broke my door! Get ahold of that strength of yours, will you?!"

Normally her scolding would irritate him, but tonight he was in far too good a mood. Instead he laughed, smiling again as he shut the door. "So you can tell too! I've gotten stronger. You should be pleased."

"Well sure I am," she pouted, turning away, "As long as you don't destroy my house in the process."

The Saiyan Prince came up behind her and at first she thought he was going to grab for her rear when his hand slipped into her pocket and pulled the glove out. He held it up in his palm and chuckled again. "Bulma, I want you to know I am very pleased with you. Very pleased indeed. I might even go as far as to call myself happy right now."

She turned around and blushed lightly when she realized how close together they were. She studied his face and smiled a bit herself. "Wow, I sure gotta say this is a nice change for you, Vegeta, you're normally so grumpy all the time!" Her eyes wandered down and Vegeta hiccupped as she out of nowhere grabbed at his pecs through his shirt. "And look at that! You do look stronger, Vegeta!" She poked at his belly playfully. "And with ribs still intact!"

Vegeta growled, turning his head aside to hide his blush. "Yes, yes I know." She had a horrible way of distracting him, especially when he was trying to make a point.

"Anyhow, you were saying?"

He grunted, pushing his blush away, and gave her a small, closed-lip smile. "Yes…" Bulma stumbled back as he pressed her up against the bed, his hand coming up to balance her chin. "You should be a happy woman today. I certainly hope you are. When they tell my legend throughout the stars, they will say the great Prince Vegeta took back what was his here, on earth. They will remember the human woman he choose to play a part in it." Bulma stared mesmerized as he pushed her down on the bed, the glove resting on her chest. "So I hope you're happy, Bulma." He grinned. "As happy as I am today."

Bulma blinked up at him. "Wow…you have a strange way of romancing a girl, Vegeta."

Vegeta's smile flattened. "Give me your hand."

"Huh?"

"Just do it," he grunted.

Bulma reached out her hand to him and he took her wrist, sitting her up again. She stared at him as he grasped the glove in his upturned palm and then placed her hand over top of it. Bulma didn't understand what he was doing, but seemed incredibly sweet. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Vegeta's eyes lit with a victorious flame and gazed intently into her large blue ones.

"Bulma."

She blinked. "Yes?"

His mouth lifted into a crooked smile. "You're mine."

Bulma's breath trembled. "Are you…trying to say you…maybe…that you…love—" She squeaked as he grabbed her firmly by the chin and kissed her. Her body turned to jelly under his touch. It was the first time he'd truly kissed her.

_Yes, this must be it. He must be trying to say he loves me!_

She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back. He pushed her forcefully down on the bed, causing several of her things to go flying off it. He kissed her again, growling deeply, his thick fingers interlocking with hers and pushing her arms above her head. She squeaked and hummed, her fingers pulling at his shirt as his knees came to pin her waist.

Bulma broke the kiss. "Vegeta? I know this is really crazy, but I think…" She paused, the words seeming strange in her throat, but chose to say them anyhow. "I think I love you."

He grinned tightly and chuckled. "Really? Good…"

He made her putty in his hands, taking joy in the sparkle in her eyes as he held her fast, removing her clothes. It all made sense now, he understood what Kakarot had that he'd been missing. It was one thing to be feared, but to be adored? It was another form of victory and satisfaction he'd never experienced before. This was truly the key to the lost Saiyan strength.

That night, he made true effort in making love to her, the same effort he put into any battle. That night, he took what was his.


	5. Chapter 5

Everyone noticed it. Even Dr. Brief wrapped up in his garden and workshop. Even Mrs. Brief in her joyous oblivious smile. Even one or two of the neighbors who glanced by in passing noticed it: something about Vegeta had changed. It wasn't an obvious change – he still spent most his time training, he still rarely spoke to anyone, he still had the same irritable expression. However, he seemed to have developed a new disposition toward Bulma. When he was hungry, he sat next to her, broodingly eating his food. When he was tired, he slept in her bed. When he chuckled, it was usually because of something she did. He had even developed a habit of watching her as she worked on her various inventions, his arms folded and leaning silently against the wall, listening as she described her work.

That was the change that most noticed. Only Yamcha saw the rest. He noticed out of the corner of his eye the things Bulma and he did when they thought no one was looking. He saw Bulma giving Vegeta a cute expression as she tried to fork up his food into his mouth, the Saiyan Prince scowling and scolding her before finally giving in to her game. He saw subtle looks they gave each other as they passed in the hall. He saw Vegeta's fingers slip under her clothes, whispering something into her ear with a crooked grin and stars in her eyes.

It unsettled him, but it wasn't until one particular day that he discovered a sight that truly horrified him. Taking a break from his own training, he decided to go visit Bulma in her workroom, figuring he'd find out if she'd heard from Goku or the others recently. Puar was off taking a nap, his close friend having been working just as hard as he had in coaching and encouraging him. He would have knocked – though he had a tendency to be clumsy, Yamcha had always done his best to be polite – but the door was cracked open. He could hear Bulma. And he could hear Vegeta. Though he knew he shouldn't, he shifted himself down and peeked in.

It was his worse fears confirmed. Vegeta and Bulma were both up on her workbench, Bulma sitting in Vegeta's lap as his thick arms held her fast. Vegeta was huffing like a stallion as they made out with each other.

"Vegeta," Bulma said between breaths as they kissed, her arms wrapped around his neck, "Less…teeth…!"

He growled hungrily, his fingers digging into her back. "Shut up, woman," he grunted.

They both breathed heavily, Bulma squeaking and giggling as Vegeta heaved her back, letting her dangle over the edge of the desk. A dark grin covered his face as he watched her squirm a bit before bringing her back up into his lap and resuming their deep, passionate kiss.

Yamcha grunted as his fist tightened. It wasn't jealousy he was feeling, it was anger and fear. He figured they're relationship must have gotten pretty serious, but he hadn't expected to see Bulma letting him treat her that way. Calling her 'woman'? Looking at her like he _owned_ her? It was unacceptable! How could Bulma be okay with him treating her like that? This couldn't _really_ be what she wanted. His mouth move, struggling against the urge to cry out against this. Finally he just crept away, least either Bulma or Vegeta realized he'd been spying on them.

Puar rubbed her tired little eyes as Yamcha entered abruptly, his expression flat and sour. She blinked and then sighed. "Uh oh…" she trilled, "What's wrong, Yamcha?"

"It's that Vegeta, Puar," he growled, the scars on his face looking deeper than normal somehow, "He's done something to Bulma."

"What?" Puar squeaked, floating up off her bed, "What do you mean, Yamcha?"

"I mean it's like he's gotten in her head." He sat down heavily and folded his arms. "I want Bulma to be happy and I don't want to get in her way. But this is ridiculous! I can't just stand by and let Vegeta get away with this!"

Puar looked at him anxiously. "What do you mean?"

He looked sharply at the hovering blue cat. "I mean he's up to something, I just know it! I just can't see Vegeta as a serious boyfriend, there's just no way!" He looked down at his hands. "I gotta do something, but what? I could try talking to Bulma, but she'd probably just get mad at me again." He blinked, then lowered his brow with determination, firmly standing up. "There's nothing for it, Puar. I have to go and confront Vegeta."

"What?!" Puar squealed, waving her little arms around, "You can't be serious, there's no way you can fight Vegeta!"

"No, no, not fight, Puar," Yamcha assured, sweating a little, "He could pummel me without even trying and that wouldn't help Bulma at all." His brow lowered. "No. I need to confront him and find out why he's doing this. This has got to be put an end to before Bulma gets hurt."

"I hope you know what you're doing..." Puar stated warily, her tail wiggling uncomfortably below her.

Though he didn't say it, Yamcha admitted he hoped he did too.

Yamcha went back to training, waiting for the right moment. It was a hard moment to find, when was the right time to talk to a guy like Vegeta? Finally, late in the afternoon, he spotted Vegeta heading for the Capsule Corp ship, a towel flung over his shoulder, looking grim as usual. Yamcha swallowed hard but steeled his courage, jogging over to intercept the Saiyan.

"Hey, Vegeta!" he called. Vegeta glanced up, just giving Yamcha flat look as he approached. "Do you have a moment?"

"No," he grunted, "I really don't."

Yamcha gave a light, nervous chuckle. _Come on, pull it together, Yamcha._ He cleared his throat and gave Vegeta his best stern look. "Well whatever, I really need to talk to you."

"And I really don't care," Vegeta flatly returned, "Now get out of my way."

"Uh, no!" Blocking Vegeta's way wasn't really part of the plan, but he went with it, folding his arms. "No, you're going to hear me out. It's about Bulma. I don't know what your interest in her is, but I can tell you're just using her. So whatever your planning, leave her out of it."

Vegeta stared at him for a long moment and then suddenly threw back his head and a boisterous cackle. "You're really serious! AHAHAHAHA! You honestly think you can tell me what to do, that's hilarious! AHAHAHAHA!"

Yamcha shriveled back a little. He _really_ didn't like that laugh of his. Still he grunted and tightened his fists. "It's not a joke, Vegeta!" he shouted over the laughter, "I can't just stand back and watch you treat her like a toy!"

Vegeta's laughter cut off as abruptly as it came and he gave him a tiny, wicked smile. "Toy? I'm afraid I'll have to disagree. Bulma is hardly a toy to me. In fact, right now, I'd argue she's the most important woman in the universe. Because of me, she has honor I've given no other."

"She doesn't need you to be important!" He was yelling now. "Bulma special all on her own, she doesn't need anything from you!"

Vegeta's smile flattened and he snorted. "Hmph. As if any Human could be special. I'm tired of this conversation, now get out of my way."

The Saiyan bared his teeth as Yamcha got in his way again. "No, I'm not done, I want to know why you're doing this!"

Vegeta snarled, his fist clenching down at his side. "I won't say it again, now get out of my way!"

"Just answer me! Why are you—!" Yamcha was cut off, a mixture of saliva and blood flying out of his mouth as a saiyan fist suck deep into his stomach. Vegeta scowled, grabbed the Human by the hair and side kicking him, another incredible blow to the stomach. Yamcha bounced across the lawn and into the side of mansion, cracking the wall.

Yamcha was barely aware of himself as he saw the white boots fill his vision, his body lifted up by the shirt as Vegeta gave him a disgusted, mocking glare. "You got anything else you'd like to say to me, you pathetic weakling?" he challenged. Yamcha groaned. "I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you."

"VEGETA!"

Vegeta froze with a warbling grunt and then turned his head, his teeth gritted. Bulma stood there looking all puffed up, her arms braced at her sides, and her brow so tight it seemed her eyes would pop out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she screamed at him, "Put him down right now!"

Vegeta growled and loosened his grip, letting Yamcha drop to the ground. "Not worth my time anyway," he snorted, turning as he tossed his towel back over his shoulder.

"Oh no you don't!" Bulma snapped, making him freeze again, his shoulders trembling with anger and annoyance, "You stay right there, your highness!" She ran over to Yamcha, sitting him up. "Yamcha? Are you okay? What the hell got into you two?!"

Yamcha coughed, spitting blood into his palm. He hissed, glaring at Vegeta's back. "Some prince. You're nothing but a brute."

"Pathetic, hiding under a woman's skirt," Vegeta shot back, not even bothering to look at him, "Of course, I should expect no less from a classless warrior."

"I didn't even come out here to fight with you!" Yamcha shouted, "I just wanted to talk!"

"Talking is for the weak."

"Okay, just _stop_ _it_ you two!" Bulma snapped, flashing them both a glare, "What exactly is going on here?"

"Bulma, I'm sorry," Yamcha said, looking earnestly at her and then glaring at Vegeta, "But I can't take this anymore! He's a monster and a murderer and—"

"Oh my God, you can't be serious!" Bulma cried, fuming at Yamcha, "_That's_ what this is about?! Grow up, Yamcha, I'm not your girlfriend anymore, remember?!"

Vegeta fell silent, crossing his arms and just glowering as the fighting continued. By now, the others had started coming out of the mansion to see what all the commotion was about.

"Yamcha, are you okay?!" Puar squeaked, rushing to him.

"I'm staying out of this one…" Oolong cowered in a doorway.

"Good grief, what's all the racket about?" Dr. Brief stuck his head out a window.

"Bulma, please, that's not what I'm trying to say at all!" Yamcha protested, holding up both hands, "He's the one—"

"What kind of immature pighead fights over a girl?!" Bulma continued to yell, "Especially me, who's clearly smart enough to make up her own mind?!" Vegeta cracked a cruel smile. "Oh don't think I've forgotten about you, your majesty!" she turned on him, "If you think you can go beating up anybody you like just cause they make you angry you can think again! Especially when _I'm _around, you got that?!"

"The Prince of All Saiyans—!"

"What, does the prince need me to kiss his royal behind?!"

"Silence, woman!"

"Stop it!" Yamcha got up, pointing a finger at Vegeta while clutching his stomach, "You can't talk to her like that!"

"Oh really?" Vegeta scowled, "Considering she's my wife, I'd say I can talk to her anyway I like!"

The universe cracked and all at once the fighting stopped, every face frozen dumbstruck, the only sound heard being their gargling stutters.

"Didn't see _that_ coming," Oolong blinked, coming out of the doorway a little more.

"B-Bulma?" Yamcha stared, his face twitching, "You…married him…? W-when…?"

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell us?" Dr. Brief stared, fumbling to get a new cigarette since the last one had fallen out of his mouth.

"Wha…no I didn't!" Bulma blurted and then flashed her gaze to Vegeta, "No we didn't!"

"Oh please," Vegeta grunted, his arms crossed, "Don't pretend like you didn't know, it isn't becoming of you."

"OH MY GOD, WE DID?!" Bulma shrieked, her expression seeming to swallow her head.

"Ah-h…." Vegeta stared, now his own expression dumbstruck, "You mean to tell me you really didn't know?"

"Ah…" Bulma stuttered back, her jaw hanging and wiggling about, "Vegeta…you can't be serious. How can we be married? We…we never _got_ married!"

Vegeta stared at her for a moment longer and then closed his mouth and eyes, snorting softly. "Disappointing. I really took you to be cleverer than that, Bulma."

"Don't you start insulting me," Bulma glared at him, putting her hands on her hips, "Just explain to me in what way are we married?!"

"Yeah, seriously!" Oolong had to agree, his ears lifting with curiosity.

Vegeta grunted, obtaining that offended look he got whenever he was forced to explain something beneath him. "Very well. I had assumed my intentions would be obvious to you peons, but clearly I stand corrected." He looked at Bulma intently. "At the very least, I expect you remember me giving you my glove?"

"Well of course I do," Bulma replied, her own arms folded, "What about it?"

"You didn't find that action curious at all?

"Well…yeah," her eyes shifted, "I thought you were just being swee…" Her eyes widened, the realization flashing through her mind. _Did you really mean it? Don't read too much into it. You have until then to decide. Bulma, you're mine…_ "Uh…ah…uuuhhh…." She wobbled around, nearly losing her balance. "You…we…"

Vegeta gave her a low smile.

"What, I don't get it?" Oolong interjected.

"Forgive my not explaining at the time…I had hoped you'd be smart enough to understand my intentions." He smiled, his eyes closed in a gloating manner. "Yes, but now you see, it was a Saiyan marriage proposal. As a proud warrior race, we Saiyan's have no use for long courtships, as most our lives is dedicated to fighting and we never know which day might be our last. So, when a Saiyan wishes to marry, he or she offers their chosen spouse a symbol of their fighting prowess. In older days, it was a weapon usually. For modern Saiyans, most often a combat glove." His eyes opened, looking intensely at Bulma.

"It represents a very simple promise made between the two spouses: to never raise a hand against each other. That is the promise, as your husband, I have made. In all the universe, you are the one person I am sworn to never face in combat." He laughed. "Not that you ever would in the first place."

Yamcha's voice had flown off somewhere, his eyes and mouth twitching furiously as he stuttered. The others were similarly lost in shock. As for Bulma, she could only stare at Vegeta.

"So…we're really married?" she finally asked, barely able to blink.

His face flattened. "Yes. For life, as they say. What, does that bother you? You should be honored."

She didn't have an answer just yet. She turned from him, looking down hard and tapping her forefingers together. "I married you. I'm your wife…I'm a _wife_." Vegeta's expression lowered further, watching her. "I'm…wait a minute…" She turned her head to give him a sly look. "If I'm your wife…then that means…" She threw up her arms, her face exploding with excitement. "Then that makes me a princess!"

"Uh-ha!" Vegeta jerked back with a start.

"Woooaah-hahaha!" She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his face several times before laughing again. "I'm to a married a _prince_!" She grinned, shoving herself under his arm. "Bulma, Princess of All Saiyans, I like the sound of that! Has a nice ring to it, don't you think, Vegeta?"

"Ah…ah…." It was his turn to be lost in stutters, staring down at her with wide, bewildered eyes and a faint blush creeping across his nose. "Well…it…rrm…"

"Well that settles it!" Bulma declared, pumping a fist, "Mom! Dad! I'm married and we're gonna have a party to celebrate!"

"What?!" Vegeta shouted, trying to wriggle away from her.

She grabbed a fistful of the front of his shirt. "I want the best food and drink money can buy!"

"Did someone say party?" Mrs. Brief called from inside the house.

"Yep!" Bulma gave Vegeta a wily look, her brow narrowed at him. "And Vegeta's gonna dance with me!"

"What?!" he fumed, "The hell I will!"

"Whatever you say, dear," Mr. Brief nodded, pulling his head back inside the window, "And congratulations!"

"Free food and drink sounds good to me," Oolong decided with a large smile, "I'm in!"

"I won't attend any stupid party!" Vegeta shouted at her, batting her hand off his shirt, "If you want to perform your ridiculous activities, _fine_, but leave me out of it!"

"Well that's too bad," Bulma folded her arms, turning her nose up at the air away from him, "Cause you lost all your wiggle room with me when you decided to hurt Yamcha. You're going to be at my party. And you're going to dance with me. And if you make a fuss about it, I'll make you dress up for it too! How's that for an attack?"

"Why you—errr!" he shook his fist at her.

"Complain all you like, but I wanted a _real_ wedding, not a half-ass Saiyan one! So you owe me this, Vegeta!"

Puar looked down, lost between wanting to be happy for Bulma and feeling grievous for Yamcha. Yamcha remained sitting on the ground, watching as Bulma dealt with Vegeta, the Saiyan screaming 'woman' at her, Bulma un-phased by his roars. Many emotions ran through his head: pain, anger, grief, confusion. But after a long, silent moment, Yamcha's eyes shut and he grunted.

"I don't care."

"Yamcha?" Puar asked, concerned.

Yamcha stood up, trying to ease up his grip on his stomach. "I don't care anymore, Puar. Bulma can do what she wants. I'm done. Come on…she'll want us at her party. You know how demanding Bulma can be when she sets her mind on something."

As expected, Bulma got her party. The Briefs spared no expense in celebrating their little girl's special day and even had the whole thing ready by that night. Vegeta spent that preparation time hiding away in the Capsule Corp ship training, perhaps hoping he'd somehow be forgotten about. He wasn't. Instead, he found the ship's power abruptly cut and Bulma marching in to drag him out. He seriously had no clue how she managed it, no matter how much he yelled, berated, insulted, and skirted around her, she still somehow managed to force him into that party scene.

She couldn't force him to be happy about it, though. He watched the others drinking and celebrating, glowering against the far wall and muttering to himself. There he remained most of the party until Bulma came to make good on her promise.

"Hey hubby," she called, sitting down her drink, "Times up being a fly on the wall. You heard me, groom's got to dance with his bride."

"Rrrrmm..." he growled but was done trying to argue with her at this point. He left his spot on the wall and begrudgingly went to the center of the room with her, where the Briefs had prepared a dance floor. He stood there with his arms folded and Bulma laughed at him.

"Come on, you can't dance like that. Looks like I gotta teach you everything." Vegeta growled again, a light red appearing under his eyes. Bulma took his hands and placed them on her hips. "Don't look so nervous, it's easy. Look, just pretend we're getting it on in the bed, only with our clothes on! Oh, and rock side to side instead of back and forth."

Vegeta glared at her as the red became more apparent. "Did I ever tell you how absurdly vulgar you are?"

She just laughed, beginning to slowly rock with him to the music. Vegeta kept his back to the others, hoping desperately to hide just how humiliated and pissed off he was. Bulma tipped her head down, resting it against his shoulder and quietly smiling to herself.

"You know…you aren't exactly what I had in mind." He looked at her and she raised her head again. "For a husband. I had always imagined a guy a _whole_ lot different from you. But you know…the more I think about it, the more I know I'm gonna make this work." She smiled warmly. "My very own Saiyan Prince."

Vegeta grunted. "You say that like I'm a commodity."

"Oh shut up." Bulma let her head fall on his shoulder once again. A _wife_ – that she certainly hadn't been ready for. But she was one now, fully and truly. And this harsh, stubborn, bad tempered alien was her husband. Again, those three words filled her mouth, words she wasn't accustomed to saying but demanded to be spoken. "Vegeta, I love you," she spoke into his ear.

"It pleases me to hear it," he stated. Somehow, his tone was so formal it made her want to slap him.

_Why won't you say it, Vegeta? Why won't you?_

She let it go, sighing a little as she looked over his shoulder back at her friends and family, her parents looking so happy for her. She knew her friends weren't as sure. Her grip on Vegeta tightened. She didn't care what they thought. She didn't care what _he_ thought. This was the man she'd chosen, as sudden and strange as this all was. She wasn't gonna let this go. Not ever. And no one changed Bulma's mind once it was made up.

_I know you must love me. I know it. I can tell…_

"So…when do you think it will happen?" she spoke up, "Soon?"

"Hm?" he lifted his head, his eyes demanding explanation.

"Super Saiyan, silly. Do you think you'll reach it soon?"

He smiled for the first time that evening. He took her chin in his hand, his other hand resting on her hip as he continued to awkwardly dance with her. "If only I'd met you sooner…" he chuckled, "Yes, I think I will very soon. And you'll get to see it happen."

"Can't wait to see," she smiled. She reached up and flicked at a lock of his flame-like hair. "I think you'd look pretty good as a blonde."

At first he just stared at her, scowling at what an absurd statement that was, as if the hair color change was the important part. But then, despite himself, he found himself shutting his eyes and smiling. And then laughing. Quite loudly too. Bulma laughed with him, holding him tight as the slow dance music carried on. She bent down a little further so that her head could press against his chest – with what a big attitude he had she sometimes forgot he was shorter than her. She could hear his steady heartbeat, lungs moving air, everything sounded just like what she had. He thought he was so different from them. He thought he was alone. But in that moment, she realized just how incredibly similar the two of them were.

She moved her arms up to wrap around his neck, smiling mischievously at him. "Hey Vegeta…what do you say we have a more private party later tonight?" She winked at him.

He blinked at her and then cackled a little. "Oh…" His hands lowered to squeeze her rear. "I would agree to that."

As the song came to a close, Vegeta had a strange realization. He was happy – happy in a way he rarely was. He held his woman close and then suddenly picked her up, causing Bulma to yelp with surprise. The others were startled as well, but he didn't care. He was overwhelmed with the urge to impress her and he ignored everything else.

"Vegeta, what are you doing?" she asked as he carried her out the house and away from the noise of the party.

He didn't answer or look at her until he'd carried her a good ways from the house. "Bulma."

"Yeah?" she blinked.

He looked at her sharply. "Don't tell anyone about what I'm about to do. You understand?" he demanded.

"Uh…yeah, sure." What was he up to now?

He grunted. "Good. Hold on."

"Whoa!" Bulma cried as suddenly they lifted off the ground. She watched her house grown smaller beneath their feet. "Wow, I haven't done this since I was a kid! Well…outside of peril, anyhow."

Vegeta said nothing, face flat as he flew her high into the sky. He didn't take time to think about why exactly he was doing this or he would have likely put her down right then. Once they were high above the city, he stopped. Bulma held his neck and shoulders as she looked down below.

"Wow, would you look at that view!" she remarked, "You guys are so lucky, I wish _I_ could fly like this all the time."

"I didn't bring you up here to sight see," he grunted, his tone serious, "I wanted us to be alone so I could show you this." He raised his hand above his head and growled, his brow tightening and his chest heaving. Bulma's mouth opened slightly as an energy ball formed over his palm. And it slowly started to get bigger. Vegeta's muscles tightened and his teeth gritted, feeding more and more energy into the orb. Bulma's eyes widened as it expanded, beginning to fill her entire vision. Vegeta growled and then finally screamed, forcing massive amounts of energy into the charge. He felt her grip on him tighten and it drove him to enlarge it further and further, till his blood vessels bulged and sweat gathered on his forehead.

To Bulma, it was like a sun when he finally released it, throwing it up towards the sky. The ball rolled through the air, Vegeta's eyes intent on it. At last, he threw his arm to the side and the thing exploded. The shockwave was like a hurricane and the light from it annulated the night. Bulma's mouth hung open with wonder. Vegeta gazed up at the explosion for a moment and then turned his head back to her, watching the shockwave rustle through her hair and the light of it making her eyes seem to shine.

He grinned. "Well?"

"That…" She laughed, hugging his neck with a big smile. "That was amazing! I'm so proud of you, Vegeta! You've gotten so much stronger in just a few months!"

He let her nuzzle him, balancing her on one arm. He felt like a man. He felt proud. And…he felt something else. He wasn't exactly sure what it was. But he was so pleased to have found this Human woman. Part of him deeply wished she was a Saiyan. He could imagine what armies they would conquer together if she was. But conquering the universe with her as inspiration would have to suffice.

It seemed the others had taken the cue and cleaned up the party while they were gone. Vegeta set her down on the lawn, gazing up at the stars momentarily and chuckling with vicious intent, savoring fantasies of conquering worlds once again, now that Kakarot's defeat was eminent. This fantasies were disrupted, however, when he felt a hand pinch his shirt and pull him into an unexpected kiss. He soon got over the surprise and deeply smiled, kissing her back. Bulma giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh!" she suddenly broke off the kiss, touching a hand to her forehead, "What am I thinking! Party and everything and I didn't even think to call and tell Goku the good news!" She hurried off towards the house. "Oh, and the others! They'll all want to know!"

Vegeta's smile suddenly fell. "No!" he said more sharply than he meant to, his hand planting overtop of hers just as she reached the phone.

"What?" she said, startled, and then narrowed her brow at him, "Why not?"

"Uh-h," he started. He had to say something, he couldn't let her tell Kakarot. He wanted the fool to be surprised when he faced him, horrified to learn that he had discovered his secret to success. Vegeta's eyes shifted. "Well…" He pointed a finger up at her. "You should know better than to announce something like that to them while in the middle of intense training! It would only distract them. Besides, you can tell them in person when I go to face the androids."

Bulma folded her arms, giving him a skeptical look before finally sighing. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'd love to see their faces when I tell them anyways."

Vegeta relaxed, lowering his hand from her arm. "Glad you agree." He really was.

Bulma turned from the phone, seeming to think about something, and then suddenly laughed. He was going to ignore it when she spoke up. "I just realized something…you don't have a last name, do you?"

"Ah…" He paused. "No. No, we Saiyans don't keep surnames. Why do you ask?"

"_Well_…" she giggled, "If you don't have a last name, I guess that makes you Vegeta Brief!" She tossed back her head and laughed.

He growled softly and grabbed her by the hand. "Don't be ridiculous," he grunted, leading her towards their room.

She continued to laugh, making him cry out and blush heavily as she pinched his rear. "Well come on, Mr. Brief, party's not over yet."

He growled at her a bit and then smiled, moving behind her and scooping her up again. "Very well…I hope you're ready for it." He cackled and she smiled, shutting and locking the door behind them.


	6. Chapter 6

It happened again. He didn't see it coming, it'd been so long. But it happened all the same: the nightmares. Vegeta found himself sprinting through an endless emptiness, chasing after a golden light. It blazed and burned just out of reaching, mocking him. Vegeta screamed at it.

"No! You will be mine! You will be mine!"

Suddenly, the golden light rushed at him and he thought it would at last truly be his! But instead, it washed over him, burning his flesh and torturing him. Vegeta grabbed his head and screamed at the top of his lungs, fighting against the inescapable pain. But then he felt something on his face. Something that felt like...

"Come on! Come on!" Bulma cried, sitting on Vegeta's chest and slapping his face with all her might back and forth, "Vegeta, just snap out of it! Wake up, you idiot, just _wake up_!"

Bulma gasped as Vegeta's hands seized her wrists, his eyes snapping open. He breathed heavily for a moment and glared. "I'm awake, woman, calm yourself."

"Calm _myself_?" she glared, still straddling his waist, "Take a closer look at my _face_ why don't you?" Vegeta blinked, his vision clearing a bit. It was then he saw it – her nose was bleeding. "Yeah, _you_ did that, Vegeta. In your sleep. Thrashing around like that. You could have _killed_ me!"

Vegeta growled a sigh and released her wrists. "Don't be ridiculous, no Saiyan's ever killed in their sleep."

"Well I'm not about to be the first victim either." She watched him sit up and touch a hand to his head. "I haven't seen you have nightmares since before our first night together. What happened, Vegeta?"

"Nothing," he snarled, "It was nothing."

She folded her arms. "Pigheaded, I just want to help. I don't even blame you for hitting me, but I'm gonna _start_ to if you don't explain things to me."

"I don't have to explain a damn thing to you," he snapped, throwing the covers off himself and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Bulma scowled at his back and was about to scold him further when she noticed his tiny bare stub of a tail he retained, sticking out just above his boxers. Bulma's brow lowered, reaching out and pinching the stub between her knuckles and twisting hard.

Vegeta's eyes bulged. "Ga-ha!" he cried out, his head jerking around and his hands swatting as if trying to ward off an invisible foe.

Bulma let out a dark laugh. "Oh so that _does_ still affect you a little bit."

"What?!" he cried. He twisted around, his face turning to rage when he saw her hand on his stub. "Ah! How dare you?!"

"You cracked my nose!" she shouted back, not letting go as she pointed at the blood, "I know you won't apologize, so you better tell me what's going on!"

"I don't answer to you, now unhand my…just unhand it!"

"What a whiny baby," Bulma mocked, "This doesn't hurt! Not _that_ bad. I saw what _real_ tail grabbing did to Goku—"

_That_ did it. Mentioning his missing tail and Kakarot in one sentence was more than enough. He snapped. "RRRRR, SHUT UP!" He slammed his fist down on the bed.

It snapped in half.

Bulma screamed in terror as the bed fell out from under her, pillows and blankets soaring through the air and landing on top of her. Vegeta landed on his rear with a grunt, having been too blinded by rage to consider that he'd been sitting on the bed too. Bulma dug herself out of the broken heap, her face gone completely red and her brow twitching.

"Veeegeeetaaaa...!" she seethed. Vegeta's hair was blown back as she let loose on him, screaming, howling, and ranting right in his face. Vegeta just took it, not moving a muscle as she continued to blow a torrent of hot air, calling him all kinds of names and insults. She kept at it until she was out of breath and just glaring, her brow still twitching. His lips tightened, glaring back, before grabbing her shoulder and tossing her off the heap.

Bulma cried out in surprise, her arms snapping downward once she landed. "What the hell was that?!" she demanded, but then froze. Grunting angrily, Vegeta flipped the bed over, picking up the two halves of the broken bed-frame and bringing them together. Bulma blinked as he pointed a finger at it, shooting out a beam that welded the frame into one piece. He grunted again, flipping the bed back over, leaving it in a mess as he marched off to get changed.

Bulma stared at it, watching the still hot metal drip onto the floor. "You...you _fixed_ it...well sort of." She poked a finger at it, yelping a bit as she nearly burnt herself. "I mean, it's a horrid job, I'm still gonna have to replace it, but you actually tried to _fix_ something!" Vegeta pulled his blue training shirt over his head, not speaking. Bulma smiled and folded her arms. "I guess I'll take that as an apol—" He shut the door on her. Bulma blinked. "Vegeta…"

Bulma remained motionless, blinking with worry and confusion at the floor. Maybe she'd been too harsh with him. After all, when it came down to it, all she really wanted was to _help_ him, not _yell_ at him. Something was clearly wrong and he refused to tell her what. But maybe she didn't need to know what it was exactly. She hugged her knees and rested her chin against them, grabbing a tissue to clean up her nose. No, what mattered was that Vegeta needed her. He needed her far more than he knew, far more than he'd ever admit. Fine, he didn't have to admit it. She knew he did, that was enough.

And what's more, she knew exactly what she needed to do. Steeling her resolve, Bulma quickly got dressed and headed out after the Saiyan.

Vegeta blotted out all thoughts as he entered the Capsule Corp ship, his jaw and brow tight. He didn't need to think to train nor did he _want_ to think right now. Far too much in his damn head. The door hissed as it closed behind him. Vegeta lowered his brow slightly, glaring across the ship before walking to the control panel, entering in his training regimen. Bulma had improved the system by transcribing it into levels of difficulty rather than mere gravitational pull. He kicked it up a few extra levels.

Just as he pressed the start up button, he heard the door to the ship open. He spun around, crying out as he saw Bulma enter. His arm stretched out, a desperate reflexive attempt to stop her. But it was too late. The system activated, the gravity multiplied, and Bulma was immediately crushed against the floor.

"BULMA!" he screamed, his eyes wide with horror. He immediately slammed the shut off switch, leaping through the air and grabbing her. "Bulma, you idiot, what have you done?!" Her eyes were dazed and a little blood ran out of her mouth. "Damn it, woman, say something!" he shouted, shaking her.

Bulma groaned softly and blinked, her eyes coming to focus on him. "Vegeta…"

Vegeta's face trembled, clenching his teeth. "Look what you've made me do, how could you be so stupid?!"

"I…I guess I need to…fix that door," she stated helplessly. She closed her eyes.

Vegeta hissed, his grip on her tightening. A second later he flew out the door, flying with her into the house. He slammed his fist against the entry hall wall, causing the whole house to shake. "Get over here, you damn fools, somebody help me!"

They came fumbling into the hall, but they weren't fast enough for his demands. He flew down the hall past them, kicking up air and knocking over furniture, his feet touching ground once more as they arrived in his old room. He laid her on the bed, his blood vessels bulging as his heart raced, ripping open the nearby drawer. The others at last caught up with him, Dr. Brief, Yamcha, and Puar rushing in.

"Bulma!" Dr. Brief cried, the eyes of his shoulder cat bulging as well.

"Oh no, Bulma!" Puar squealed.

"What did you do to her?!" Yamcha demanded, holding up a fist.

Vegeta snarled back at them, curled protectively over Bulma, his face shuddering. "Don't just stand there, get over here and help me!"

No questions asked, Dr. Brief and Yamcha immediately got to work, Dr. Brief inserting an IV with the reconstructive medicine into her arm and Yamcha getting the oxygen going. Vegeta remained hunched over her, as if to guard her from some oncoming foe. Puar joined in, doing her best to help find any injuries and wrap them up.

Dr. Brief pulled back, nervously dabbing sweat from his forehead. "It's all right…I think she'll be fine now…what happened?"

Vegeta ground his teeth as he held her hand. "The ship. She followed me into the damn ship…damn it!"

"So…it was an accident," Yamcha softened. He gave a long pause, looking down at the bandaged Bulma. "Well…I wouldn't worry too much. Bulma's a tough girl…I'm sure she'll be all right."

"She will," Dr. Brief assured, plucking at his mustache, "That medicine is Saiyan strength stuff. I expect she'll be back on her feet by tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Vegeta demanded, still holding her hand between his.

Dr. Brief patted his shoulder. "Positive. She gave us all quite a scare, but it looks like you got her in here quick enough to prevent the worst of it."

Vegeta's brow lowered, seeming unconvinced. He sat down on the side of the bed. "Stupid woman…" he hissed.

"Vegeta…?"

"Ha," he abruptly breathed, his grip on her hand tightening as her eyes opened.

Bulma gave a weak smile. "I shouldn't have yelled at you…I know you're stressed…I was hoping…maybe I could spend a little time with you. Help you relax." Her eyes blinked half closed.

He stared at her for a long moment. And then his expression did something it never did. It turned gentler. "I…yes, I think I could spare a few hours."

"Oh…good. I'm glad. I didn't think you'd say yes but I had to try." Her eyes closed. "Stupid of me to barge in like that."

"It was more than stupid," Vegeta snapped, his brow lowering again, "It was careless and clumsy! If you die on my watch don't you think I'm going to blame myself cause I won't!"

Dr. Brief drifted back to the doorway, explaining the situation to a very confused Mrs. Brief in a hushed voice. Puar landed on Yamcha's shoulder as the scarred human warrior watched Vegeta hold vigil over his wife's side.

_Maybe he does care about her…_ he considered. He shut his eyes, grimacing. _Even if so…doesn't make it right._

"It's okay," Bulma spoke up, drawing their attention, "I'm alright. Don't worry about me, I'm just gonna rest. Besides…" She patted Vegeta's hand. "I got my very own Saiyan Prince to watch over me." Vegeta glared and grunted a little.

"All right…just don't scare us like that again, Bulma," Yamcha tried to smile, "For a second there, we thought you might be a goner."

Bulma laughed. "Me? A goner? In your _dreams_. It's gonna take a little more than falling on my face to bring _me_ down."

Yamcha chuckled. "Good to hear it, Bulma."

Bulma closed her eyes and smiled to herself. She wasn't planning on getting hurt like this. But now that it had happened, she almost _wished_ she had. She squeezed Vegeta's hand, unbelievably happy to have him staying so close to her. This would be the perfect excuse to work her magic and get his mind of whatever was troubling him. She promised herself she'd have him smiling by the end of the day.

Yamcha remained awkwardly in the background for a long moment. He wanted to stay and take care of her, but with Vegeta there he felt like he'd just be in the way. So eventually he excused himself and left. Vegeta remained sitting on the edge of the bed, staying with the intention of assuring himself she'd survive. Once he had that assurance, he'd of course return to training. To his relief, after a few hours of rest, her condition seemed to have greatly improved.

That's when Bulma's plan went into action.

"Hey Vegeta."

Vegeta paused in the middle of finger push-ups on the floor. "Yes, what?"

Bulma sat up, taking the oxygen mask off. "I got a great idea. Let's get out of here for a bit."

Vegeta got up on one knee, his brow lowered. "You're not in a fit condition to go anywhere."

"Oh," she fayed a faint, "But I need some fresh air! I'm feeling smothered in here!" He looked at her. "If only there was a nice, quiet, secluded park nearby where a big, strong man could _fly_ me!" He continued to look at her. She glared. "Vegeta!"

"Oh all _right_!" he growled, getting up, "Earthling women…"

Bulma shushed him as he carried her out, not wanting them to be caught and stopped. They made it without resistance, Vegeta cold and silent as he flew her to the city park as requested. It wasn't the nicest section of the park, but that was the point. In the few months since their marriage, Bulma had figured out what Vegeta wouldn't admit – he was actually pretty shy. Crowds made him glower or sputter in frustration. So if she wanted him to relax, he needed to be someplace where they could be alone. Bulma had him carry her around the place, his expression completely ambivalent at first. But combined with a little ego stroking, Bulma saw the first hints of a smile from him.

Just when he was ready to take her back, she declared she was hungry.

"You can't be serious," he grunted at her.

"I am!" she insisted, "I don't think I've eaten all day!" Which was actually true.

Vegeta growled softly. "And you can't eat the food at the homestead why?"

"Dull old food, I want something exciting!" she piped, holding onto his neck as he carried her, "Besides, it's so far, I want to eat _now_!"

So she got away with taking him to a restaurant. She picked a quiet little cafe on the edge of town with a large menu – she knew how Saiyans loved to eat big portions! The owner was shocked to see a bandaged girl carried in, but served them without a question. Vegeta seemed to enjoy the idea of having waiters he could freely order around. Her chest swelled as she saw his smile grow a little more.

"You know what I really need? A good movie," she stated as he carried her out of the cafe.

Vegeta's brow rose. "A what? I've never heard of such a thing."

Bulma gasped. "What? No! The great Prince Vegeta's never seen a movie? Surely not! Why, all the greatest warriors have seen at least a hundred!"

"Now you're just talking nonsense," he accused.

"Yeah, I guess you're right...I just thought, you know, cause Goku and I used to watch movies together all the time—"

"Ooooh _fine_," he snapped, "Just get this over with and tell me where you want to go."

Bulma grinned victoriously, directing him to the video store. She picked out something violent, figuring that would be the sort of movie he'd go for. Drawn by carefully implanted curiosity, Vegeta watched the film with her. He didn't show quite the enthusiasm she was hoping the movie would provoke – more often he scoffed at and mocked the fighters in it – and when the credits rolled he declared movies a worthless venture. All the same, the next time he smiled, she caught the glimmer of teeth.

At long last, Bulma brought out her secret weapon: booze.

"You sure you can handle it?" she teased, waving the beer can before his nose, "Alcohol is pretty strong stuff."

Vegeta grunted and took the can. "Of _course_ I can handle a mere earth beverage, I'm a Saiyan."

"Oh I don't know..." she stated skeptically, laying on her bed, "Even the greatest of earth's fighters can be knocked out by a few drinks." She smiled secretly at her fib and then cocked back her head. "I, though, have pretty high tolerance for the stuff! Course, I'm tougher than most. Come to think of it, maybe this isn't such a good idea for you…"

"If you think you can handle something I can't, you're either out of your mind or a complete moron," he shot back.

Her brow lowered. "Prove it."

His lowered back at her and he defiantly popped the can's tab. That was how Bulma learned that even Saiyans could get tanked. It was extremely easy to goad the prince into downing several beers, by the end of which she'd accomplished her mission of completely improving his mood.

Even more so than she'd hoped.

Vegeta's roaring laughter echoed through the room, his woman under one arm and an open beer in hand. Both of them had beer blushes, though Bulma had to believe Vegeta's was worse than hers. "And he just stood there!" Vegeta cackled, "Arm broken and about hanging off." Bulma giggled. "So I say 'you run home now and maybe I'll let you keep your other limbs!' And he says…HAHAHAHAHA…and he says…!" He tipped back the beer and downed the rest of it, crushing the can as he finished. "So I blew a hole right in his forehead!"

"Vegeta!" Bulma cried, "That's horrible!"

"No, no!" he waved, crawling over her, "The _good_ part is this guy had uh…he could heal and…well he lived but the hole was so deep he….HAHAHAHA!" He traced a circle on his forehead.

Bulma's jaw dropped. "Oh my God, it stayed?!"

"YES!" He busted up laughing and this time Bulma laughed with him. "So from then on, that stupid Timoran had a hole _right_ between the eyes!"

Bulma hugged him as she laughed, grabbing another beer. "You're right—hehehe—Vegeta, that _is_ pretty funny!"

"Yes!" he declared, he grabbed her, shoving his grinning face into hers, "It is! I'm _hilarious_!" He poked her several times in the chest. "And the Prince of All Saiyans."

She held up her drink in a toast. "The _best_ Prince of All Saiyans."

"Yes!" he agreed, "Give me another drink, woman."

"Oooh, I don't know," Bulma smiled, touching his chin, "It's pretty late, we should probably be getting to bed."

"Bed?" he poked her again, "I don't need any damn sleep, woman! I'm good _right here_!"

She chuckled. "Well that's great, but don't even Saiyans sleep at night?"

"Saiyans sleep whenever we want!" he declared, standing up and throwing an arm up at the ceiling, "Besides, I don't sleep during the day!"

"That's what I'm trying to say!" Bulma laughed and pulled back a curtain, "It's _nighttime_, Vegeta!"

Vegeta's face suddenly fell into tenuous horror and disbelief. "What? It can't be!"

"No, it is—hey!" she cried as he shoved her out of the way, planting his hands against the window.

"No! It can't be…!"

"Vegeta?" she blinked, sitting down her drink, "Wha…what's wrong?"

"No! It was just morning and…and…what?!" His hands clenched against the glass, struggling against the alcohol to compose a sentence to explain his horror. "I have to…Kakarot…" He slammed his fists against the window and it shattered, throwing back his head and letting lose a howl of rage, a storm of white-ish blue energy exploding around him.

Bulma screamed, throwing up her arms to shield herself from the glass, blinking through her own intoxication to try to understand what had just happened. "Vegeta, what are you—!"

He turned and grabbed her shoulders hard enough to cause pain. "What have you done to me?!" he demanded, his eyes actually looking _frightened_, "This isn't how it was supposed to…I must defeat him!"

"Vegeta, stop it, you're hurting me!" she cried out.

Vegeta stumbled back, holding his head, his eyes wide. "No…no…I must…why can't I do it?!" He pointed a finger at her. "You! You were supposed to…what have you done?!"

Bulma rubbed her sore shoulders and stared at him. "Vegeta…I don't understand…"

"You were supposed to help me!" he screamed at her. He stumbled back again, pulling at his hair. "No…this can't be right…you are the answer, you have to be!"

"Vegeta, tell me what's wrong!" she shouted.

"I have to be a Super Saiyan, I must!" He pointed at her again. "You were supposed… why the hell do you think I married you?!"

Bulma paused and sighed heavily, folding her arms. "Well, I never thought you'd actually _admit_ that." She watched him tremble. "What? You didn't think I'd figure it out? I'm not…I'm smart." She tried to rub away her beer blush. "I _am_ trying to help you. I am. Really."

Vegeta's teeth clenched. "You…I must train…!"

"There's more to training than hitting things! And doing…crunches or whatever." She tossed her blue hair back. "Can't you see that's what I've been trying to show you?"

"Sh…shut up…!"

"No! _You_ shut up!" She jabbed a finger back at him, putting her hands on her hips to glare before sighing again. She ripped the bandages off her arms and walked over to him, taking his face in her hands. "I love you, Vegeta. I _love_ you." Her brow narrowed. "Do you understand what that means? It means…" She rubbed at her beer blush again briefly. "I don't care what you think…or that you keep breaking my windows." Vegeta's jaw hung open slightly. "I'll _make_ you a Super Saiyan. I promise." She smiled and winked.

Vegeta stared back into her eyes for a long moment. And for that moment, it seemed she had finally calmed him. But then his teeth clenched again and he grabbed her by the wrists. "No!" He threw her onto the bed, his face darkening as he stood over her, his finger pointed menacingly down. "No…you…" He slapped himself across the face and growled as he attempted to concentrate. "You've mixed me up! You just…LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Bulma gaped as he took off the ground and flew out the window, breaking it even further. "Vegeta!" she shouted after him. But he had disappeared into the black sky.


	7. Chapter 7

Bulma didn't know where he went that night. She didn't know what he did. But in the morning she found one of their trees had been shattered – likely from a drunken, angry collision – and as she lied awake in bed she swore she could hear screaming in the sky. Though she did her best not to show it, she was afraid for him – afraid of where he might go; afraid of what he might do. In the end, it seemed he had gone or done very little. She found him in the ship, murdering the air with his fists. According to the log, he'd been there most the night.

Bulma took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair, and made the call. Vegeta had his back to her as the projection filled the air. "Vegeta," she sighed, "Don't you ever do that again! Are you okay?" He paused in his kicks, lowering his leg and become still, his back still to the screen. "I know you're upset...I'm upset too. But we can work this out." She watched him. "Why won't you look at me?" His arm lifted to the side, his finger outstretched as energy lit up the tip. "Vegeta, don't you dare!" The energy shot out, blowing up the projector and cutting off the signal.

Bulma gaped at her fizzling screen. Her hands clenched. "Oh no you don't!" She shoved her chair aside and ran outside, plowing up to the ship's door and pounding on it with her fist. "Vegeta, you open up _right now_! VEGETA!" She continued to pound on the door. "Don't you do this to me, Vegeta! Don't you shut me out! I know you can hear me in there! ANSWER ME!"

Vegeta paused in his workout as the pounding thundered, turning to look over his shoulder, his eyes cold. Bulma paused, almost as if she could sense him looking her way. She held her breath. His brow lowered. She waited. He turned away. Bulma continued to hold her breath, curling in his lips and biting hard. But when she heard the sound of his aggressive grunts once again, she slammed the door one final time with both fists and screamed, sliding down and gripping her knees.

She about lost it right there, her hands and face trembling. She about went into the house and cut the ship's power. But she didn't want to think about what he would do next if she acted in kind with him. Bulma bit the side of her thumb and her brow narrowed. She got up and banged on the door again.

"Hey Mr. Pity Party!" she shouted, putting her hands on her hips, "Go ahead and act like a mopey, spoiled little brat in there, but I'll be back later! You can't hide from me forever, Vegeta!" She gave the door one last pound and then marched off, her arms crossed.

She left him for now and went about her day, knowing he'd _have_ to come out sooner or later. He had to eat, after all. And he hadn't slept all night! Nature would catch up with him and he'd be forced to leave the ship. Then she'd force him to face her. Bulma hung around the house, patiently waiting, her person computer open, constantly observing the ship, her brow lower. It took a lot longer than she thought, but finally the door opened.

She faced the kitchen door, her hands on her hips, knowing he'd have to come through there if he wanted to eat. She heard movement and her brow lowered. "Well—" She gasped as something blew past her, her hair flying up in a gust. She spun around just in time to see Vegeta seemingly materialize in front of the fridge and then immediately vanish with another gust past her, the refrigerator door left hanging open. Bulma's jaw hung…and slowly her entire face turned red. Her shoulders shook and her eyes turned blood shot.

"Oh you did _not_ just do that!" she screamed. She glanced at her computer screen and saw the ship's door shut again as a blur whirled past it. She let out a deep, menacing growl. "Nobody ignores _me_ and gets away with it!"

She bolt out the front door, ran up to the ship's door, and kicked it as hard as she could. "Hey Prince of All _Losers_!" she snarled, looking like she was about to transform into an oozaru, "You just made a _big_ mistake, pal! You think you can blow me off cause you didn't get your way, you got something else coming!" She banged on the door again. "You hear me?! You just declared war on Bulma Briefs! And believe you me, I don't _need_ to raise a hand against you to win!" She finished by folded her arms and giving a loud huff, raising her chin, turning to walk away. "I expect an apology by tonight. Otherwise, you're gonna be _real_ sorry."

Insides the ship, every fiber of Vegeta's being was grating to resist responding to that arrogant sow. He couldn't respond to her, he couldn't _look_ at her. Otherwise, he'd risk her bewitching him again. And that he would _not_ allow to happen _ever_ again. He was Prince Vegeta, and he would not allow himself to be controlled by some weak woman. He looked at the food he'd grabbed. Still…it was humiliating to be hiding from her like this. But he'd promised himself he'd do whatever it took to become a Super Saiyan. She'd made him stronger at first, but now she had become just a distraction.

His expression at last flattened as he heard her leave. Let her make her threats, she was nothing but a puffed up bunch of hot air. He was superior to her in every way. There was no way she could stop him if he refused to have anything to do with her.

Or…so he thought.

Bulma stood in their room, waiting for him to show up, her foot tapping. When he didn't appear to go to bed with her, she got out her tool kit. That did it. His fate was sealed. Being upset was one thing, but she wasn't about to be tossed aside like a used up rag. She knew that was what he was trying to do. She'd gotten too close to him and now he was scared. But she'd show him. She'd show him in every way she could match whatever he threw at her. If he wouldn't love her, at the very least, he'd _respect_ her. Her face fell into sadness as she considered this thought.

No…no he did love her. If nothing else, she'd seen it in his eyes as she had laid broken in bed just the day before. Suddenly, Bulma felt a tear on her cheek. She blinked, catching it in her hand, her mouth open in surprise. She stared at it, watching as her fingers began to shudder. Then her cheeks were wet. It was only then, after the fact, she realized she was crying. Bulma clenched her teeth, feeling the hot, hurt tears run.

Finally, she just let it happen. Bulma let her arms flop over her vanity and cried angrily into them. She didn't make a lot of noise, the last thing she wanted was for someone to catch her crying. She sobbed until she'd had her fill of it and then fiercely wiped her cheeks on her sleeve, glaring down at her tools, resolute once more. Pent up emotion expelled, she at last smiled mischievously, reaching for a pen to draw up her war plans.

It took several days of preparation, of which she allowed Vegeta the false sense of security that he had won. It seems he had determined to never look at or speak to her again until he'd achieved Super Saiyan. A little angry pounding in the door every day was enough to make him think she was helpless to stop him. As for the rest of the time, she spent in her workshop, creating the necessary items she'd need to pull off her ingenious plans. The rest of the household could feel the tension in the air, every one of them holding their breaths just dying for it to snap. But Bulma bided her time, making certain every aspect of the preparation was ready.

Finally, after a week of work, she found herself looking over the blue prints to the ship, chuckling, her brow pointed sharply downward. Boy was she gonna show him, today the Prince of All Saiyans was gonna get it. Putting away the blue prints, she removed her work gloves with her teeth, packing two capsules into a neat little purse. Her weapons in hand, when went to put on her battle armor – a low cut cocktail dress and painted lips. She kissed the mirror and grinned at the red mark left behind, heading out to enact her plan.

She went to the kitchen and got cooking, preparing several steaks. She checked her watch with a sly smile, knowing that Vegeta would be making his food run soon. Sure enough, the smell drew in the attention of everyone, entering the kitchen with compliments. Bulma passed out the steak cheerfully to them, leaving one set aside just behind her back.

Out in the ship, Vegeta could smell it too. He dodged one of the drone's attacks and then slammed the off switch, killing the training session. He panted for a moment and then straightened up, sniffing the air. Definitely Bulma's cooking, her food always smelled far better than her mother's. Plus, Mrs. Brief's cooking was always laced with the repulsive scent of her sweet perfume. He growled thoughtfully, pulling on his shirt and slipping out the ship's door. Moving stealthily into the house, he pressed his back do the wall by the kitchen door, listening as he heard the others chatting and laughing as they enjoyed the meal.

Again, he felt the weight of humiliation on his chest and clenched his fists and teeth. Sneaking around like a scavenger, how much longer would he have to put up with this? It was almost more than he could bear. He swallowed his pride as best he could and cracked open the door, peeking inside. The others were busy stuffing their faces at the table. Good, they wouldn't bother him. But where was that blue-haired menace? He cracked the door open a little further and his face dropped.

"Wha…" he blinked, beginning to sweat a little at the sight of his wife, dressed in the tightest little red dress he'd ever seen, a red ribbon around her neck. Vegeta's brow twitched. What on earth she doing dressed like _that_?! She was practically _naked_! He bared his teeth as he felt his cheeks grow warm, his eyes shifting over her exposed skin. It was just another one of her tricks. He looked forcefully from her backside, spotting the steaming steak just behind her. He grabbed it and left quickly.

A moment after he left, Bulma's eyes shifted back to the still cracked open door, lowering her brow and grinning.

Vegeta entered the ship, making sure to lock the door behind him as he always did since Bulma's accident, his meal in hand. As usual, he ate quickly, picking up the whole slab of meat in one hand and tearing off a piece with his teeth. He enjoyed it, which frustrated him even further. He'd done his best not to think about his wife, especially his shame concerning her – the shame that he'd put her before his goals. It was completely unfitting behavior of a true warrior and he couldn't yet fathom what had possessed him to do so.

He grunted, continuing to eat until he'd shoved the last piece into his mouth. Feeling revitalized, he pushed all thoughts from his mind and powered up, heading back over to the controls to start up another training session. But before he got there, he paused, frowning heavily. Something was wrong. He wasn't sure what, but something in his gut didn't feel right. He touched his abs, growling softly through his teeth, eyeing his stomach accusingly. What was this? There was some kind of…_pain_ coming from his stomach. No, it was more than pain, it was a disgusting, twisted feeling.

Vegeta's eyes bulged as he suddenly felt something forcing his way up his throat. He was being attacked from the inside! Covering his mouth with both hands, he bolted back out of the ship. But before he even made it down the steps, he vomited a torrent of orange on the lawn. Vegeta panted, staring down at his lunch mixed in with the orange, foamy substance.

"What the hell?!" he demanded, slapping both hands over his mouth again a moment later. He ran around wildly, completely lost as what to do, before letting lose another waterfall of orange on the ground. He panted, holding his gut. "This isn't happening!" Then covered his mouth again. His brow twitched and as he felt more horror swelling up inside him. He vomited several more times, bringing him to his knees as he was pounded from the inside, helpless to fight back. He wanted to scream, but feared every time he opened his mouth.

Then he heard her. "Aw, look at you. Did the Prince's dinner not agree with him?"

Vegeta's shoulders shook with rage, keeping his back to her as had become his practice, even in suffering. "You! What have you—!" He covered his mouth again, giving a gargled groan.

Bulma watched mercilessly as the pain built up inside him and he vomited again. "Oh would you look at that. So the mighty prince is talking to me again. What an _honor_."

"Garr…" he snarled, his whole body trembling as he struggled to remain in any semblance of upright.

"And I thought steak was your favorite too…"

His fingers dug into the ground. "Gaaa-aaaahh! What have you done to me?!" He struggled to crawl away from her, but vomited again.

Bulma chuckled, her brow lowered and her arms crossed, rather enjoying having him at her feet. "_Well_, since you decided to start hiding from me, I decided to come up with a new invention and test it out on you." The next vomit actually drew tears from his eyes. "Don't know what to call it yet, but it seems to work just like I intended. You see, I added a little something extra to your steak sauce." She held up the empty capsule. "Normally, a person would have run out of stuff to vomit by now. But the stuff _I_ made is manufacturing more all the time using your own enzymes." She smiled cruelly. "Pretty clever, wouldn't you say?"

Vegeta held his stomach. "I feel like I'm dying, I can barely breath!" he cried.

"Oh you're not gonna _die_, you baby," Bulma scolded mockingly, "Even if I didn't have a remedy made you wouldn't _die_."

He suffered through another hurl and coughed. "Remedy? Give it to me at once!"

"Why should I?" she challenged, leaning over him, "You've been nothing but rude to me lately. Maybe I should just wait see how long this new product of mine lasts!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Watch me!" She turned to walk away and then paused, smiling again. She turned around and poked at him with the tip of her shoe. "Well…_maybe_ I might reconsider that. _If_ you apologize to me."

His fingers tore at the grass once more. "What?! Never!"

"Hmph. Suit yourself." She turned again.

"No!" he cried, stretching out a hand, "Wait I…" His eyes bulged and a hand clamped his mouth as he felt another wave forcing its way up.

Bulma stood over him once again. "_Well_? Come on, tough guy, let's hear it!"

Desperately, he held his throat, trying to force it back down or maybe strangle the thing inside him. But just like the other ones, it came exploding out of him, this one even more powerful and sickening than the rest. He screamed. "ALL RIGHT! I APOLOGIZE JUST GIVE ME THE DAMN ANTIDOTE!"

Bulma smiled. "Why of course, your highness, your wish is my command." She flipped a pill to him.

Vegeta immediately snagged it out of the air and shoved it into his mouth, swallowing hard. He panted, bent over on all fours, surrounded by his own refuse as he felt the pill hit his stomach. The pain didn't go away, but the swelling in his gut finally stopped. He breathed a heavy sigh, getting up on one knee.

"Now," she folded her arms again, "How about you make up for your rudeness by coming inside and spending a little time with me?"

He breathed heavily for a moment, but then smiled. "Sorry, but you just gave up your bargaining chip. Foolish of you to concede so easily. Especially if you were planning on making on any more demands."

"Hm. Well if that's really how you feel…" Vegeta's eyes bulge as he felt her hand grab his shoulder and something sharp enter his neck. He grunted in disbelief, his eyes drifting back to see a needle puncturing his skin. He soon recognized it as the same syringe she had been threatening him with nearly a year ago. He continued to warble and Bulma shushed him as he felt his limbs go numb. He fell over on the ground, feeling his entire body turn cold until at last he passed out. "Ha!" Bulma smiled, holding up the syringe by her ear, "That teaches _him_ to underestimate _me_!" She laughed and then bent over, kissing his cheek, leaving a nice, red kiss mark behind.

Dr. Brief was out on a stroll when he came upon a peculiar sight – there was some kind of guck all over the lawn and Bulma was dragging an unconscious Vegeta up the ship's ramp. He blinked. "My word! What happened here?"

"Oh hey, Dad!" Bulma waved, "Don't worry. Vegeta got a little sick."

"I see…" he said, eyeing one of the orange piles like it might come alive, "Well whatever it is, try not to catch it yourself!" He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and headed inside the house.

Bulma dragged Vegeta the rest of the way inside – he was pretty heavy for such a short guy – and laid him one of the ship's bunks. He'd wake up again in a few hours, so she'd better get to work. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her second capsule and popped it open, several tools and a little extra special something coming out. She grinned and got to work, opening a panel in the wall.

Vegeta groaned as he slowly felt warmth return to his limbs. He blinked, his vision beginning to clear. What had happened? His eyes shifted down to his arm. For the first moment, he could only twitch his fingers. He gasped, but relaxed when he slowly felt the rest of his motor skills returning. At last he sat up, touching a hand to his head and he groaned. He inspected his surroundings, pleased to find himself in his training room.

But something wasn't right….why was he wearing black pants? And…was there something on his head?

Vegeta swung his legs off the bunk and went over to the nearest reflective surface. The moment he got there he about fell over backwards, letting out a terrible scream. He was dressed in some kind of _bunny_ costume! He was still wearing his gloves and boots, but he was shirtless with a black bowtie around his neck, bunny ears on his head, and a little fluffy white tail on the back of the pants. He breathed heavily, choked by rage, and screamed again, ripping everything but the pants off, chucking them into the air, and making them explode.

His shoulder fell against the wall and his face twitched uncontrollably. "That… damn…_woman_!" he seethed, rubbing off the kiss mark she'd left behind on his cheek.

He had to actually sit down for a moment to regain his composure, wishing there was something nearby he could just _kill_ right then. It was extremely difficult to, but at long last he just shook it all off, pressings his knuckles against his hips and heading for the control panel.

"Whatever," he muttered to himself, as he pressed the buttons, "If she thinks she can overcome me with cheap tricks, she's even more stupid than she looks." He pressed the start up switch.

And hit the ceiling.

"Gaah!" he cried, staring down at the floor, "What the—aagh!" The gravity shifted again and he hit the wall. "What is—?!" He hit another wall. "Aaarrr!" Though it was hard to see through the dizziness, it became apparent it wasn't just the gravity that was wrong. The drones were going nuts too, bumping into each other and flying randomly all over the place. Several of them collided with him as the gravity shifted to the floor before hurling him against a wall again. "BULMA!"

Bulma sat quietly in an arm chair, drinking a cup of steaming tea as he heard the Saiyan's scream echo from the ship. She smiled, sitting down her cup and opening her personal computer. Vegeta was just hitting another wall – or maybe it was the ceiling, it was hard to tell at this point – when the projector came on and Bulma's smug face filled the air.

"Hey, guess what? I fixed the projector you broke while you were taking your nap," she casually stated.

Vegeta growled as he latched onto one of the consoles with both hands, body jerked in various directions as the gravity continued to rapidly shift. "DAMN WOMAN!" he screamed.

"Aw, is something wrong, honeybun?" she asked with an overly sweet expression, "Is your precious training not going well today?"

"Shut up! I know you did this!"

"What? Me? Do this?" A tiny smile shown through her fey of innocence. "Now why would I ever do that?"

He snarled, shutting his eyes tight as he held on against the erratic gravity pull. "How dare you…" he hissed, "You get in here right now—!"

"Oh-ho!" she chuckled, "You want me to come _inside_ the ship?"

"Just get in here and fix this damn thing!" He gave a roaring cry as he bounded down the length of the controls and hit the kill switch. He slumped with an angry sigh of relief as his feet hit the floor. He glared into the wall, his face twitching. "_Now_, Bulma."

"Hmph," she smiled, turning her head to the side and twisting a lock of hair, "Well then …I'll take that as an invitation." The projector shut off.

Vegeta turned his head and stared grimly at where her image had just been. She didn't argue about that one…not like she had about the antidote. Which was a worse sign. What was she planning now? Gritting his teeth, Vegeta went to stand in the corner, his arms folded and glowering at the floor as she came in, humming and carrying a bag of tools. He didn't look at her, but he could smell her and hear her titter as she opened up a panel. Those two elements were enough to create a heavy feeling on his chest. What had that damn woman done to him? And how could he conquer it?

"Looks like some of the circuitry got messed up, should be easy enough to fix."

"Fine," he growled, "Just hurry up and get it done already." He heard some fizzling and suddenly the door deadlocked.

"Oops," she smiled, "Must have hit the wrong wire."

"Oh really?" his eyes shifted, trying to contain his annoyance. She was definitely up to something.

"Guess neither of us are leaving here for a little while."

"Crrrr…" he seethed, clenching a fist. He glared heavily at the wall but then forced himself to calm. "Fine by me. I have no reason to leave anyways, so you best just get to work."

"I guess I had better." It was silent for a long moment, but he could feel her come to stand behind him, her own arms crossed. "Vegeta."

"No."

"What are you gonna do, avoid me the rest of your life?"

"No," he snapped again.

"Well then what?"

He growled. "Just get back to work."

"No! You're gonna talk to me and stop hiding in the corner like a sissy little boy."

"Rrrr, I am not _hiding_!"

"What would you call it then? Sure looks that way to me." She stood over him so that her face was nearly in his hair. "Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you, Vegeta!"

"I don't take orders from you."

"That's what this is about, isn't it! You just can't stand having anyone tell you what to do, can you?"

"No! And…and YES! Just leave me alone!"

"Huh," she snorted, "You're just a coward, that's what you are."

He froze and then clenched his teeth. "How _dare_ you call me that?!"

"Well what else would you call running away from your own wife?!"

"I am training for combat, woman!" he screamed, his voice making his hair shudder as it echoed off the wall, "I don't have time to carter to you!"

"When have I _ever_ tried to interfere with your training?!"

"Just SHUT UP!"

The ship shook with his rage and Bulma's brow lowered intensely. "All right, that does it, look at me!" He snarled. She grabbed his shoulder and tried to turn him around. "Look at me!"

"Don't touch me!" he snapped, swatting her hand off.

She grabbed his shoulders with both hands. "No! You turn around and look me in the eyes right now!"

"I said don't touch me!" He grabbed her wrists.

"No!" She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"What the—have you gone mad, woman, get off me!" He twisted to pry her off him, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands latching onto his chin.

"Just look at me, Vegeta! _Look_ at me!"

"I refuse!"

"Well then so do I!"

The tussle began, the two floundering all over the ship and Vegeta kept rebuffing her with gentle blows and Bulma hung onto him even tighter, trying to force his head to turn around and look at her. He flew up into the air and dropped her, but she grabbed onto his ankles and climbed up him again, hugging his waist and snarling.

"Don't make me hurt you, woman!" He landed on the ground again, grabbing her wrists and forcing her arms off him only to have her legs grab him again.

"You wouldn't dare, you're too damn proud for that!" She seized a fistful of his hair and began to yank harshly.

Inside the house, Dr. Brief paused in the turning of a screw, lifting his head to blink out the window at the ship. "Now what on earth is all that racket?"

"Stupid sow, get off me at once!" Vegeta commanded, unraveling her legs from him and stumbling as he nearly lost his balance.

"Never!" she screamed back. She clamored around to his front and grabbed him by the ears. "You're…going…to…look at me!"

"RAAAA!" He turned swiftly and slammed her against the wall, making her cry out. But when she opened her eyes she found at last, for the first time in a week, him staring wrathfully into them. He held her pinned against the wall, his expression completely livid, his chest heaving and blood vessels showing in his forehead. Bulma stared back, her own brow lowered and teeth gritted. It was then she struck – with a kiss.

He was immediately sucked into it, shoving her harder against the wall and kissing her back – but breaking it off a second later. "No!" He choked as she kissed him again, the taste of her red lipstick intoxicating. He shoved her back again. "_No_!" His expression trembled as he felt her hand slip down into his pants. He grabbed her wrist. "Damn it, didn't you hear me, woman?!"

She gave a dark smile, her brow lowering. "No."

Bulma wrapped her legs around him and hauled him in. His grip on her grew weak and she spun them around, pushing _him_ against the wall as she kissed his neck. Vegeta panted, his body trembling as he fought to resist what he knew he couldn't – this woman, this damn woman. She was just too much for him. Bulma worked her very best magic on him. She would force him to remember who she was to him, force him to realize he could never get away from her, not from the moment he'd placed that glove in her hand.

He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. "No…no…I won't…I can't…!" His eyes grew livid again and he spun them back around, pinning her to the wall again. He stared into those large blue eyes of hers, refusing with every inch of his being. But rather than turning away, he found himself reaching under her dress. Bulma gasped as he ripped her panties out from under her, destroying them. "Damn you," he hissed. He undid his pants. "Damn you." Bulma gasped again, a blush covering her face as he entered her began to thrust her repeatedly against the wall. "Damn you…damn you…damn you!" he snarled in her ear with every heave.

It hurt. But she didn't protest. She didn't scold. She didn't direct. She just held him close, accepting every inch of it – his crushing grip, her body banging against the wall, the curses he hissed in her ear. She breathed heavily, holding his head as she pressed their foreheads together, forcing him to stare continually into her eyes.

Vegeta's voice faded into heavy breathing, knowing he had lost. No matter what he did, this human woman had stolen something inescapable from him he could never retrieve. He could bury it away in the deepest corners of apathy. He could put great distances between them. He could degrade her to the lowest levels. But none of that would ever change the hold she had placed on him. He was Prince Vegeta, the greatest warrior in the universe. And he was hers.

Dr. Brief lifted his head once again from his work. "Confound it all, what _is_ that racket?!" He rubbed his mustache and at last turned on a monitor, tuning into the security feeds within the ship. His face turned red. "Oh my!" he choked, grabbing a handkerchief and pressing it to his nose. Sweat gathered on his forehead as he switched the monitor back off. "Well… um…" He cleared his throat and decided he hadn't seen anything.


	8. Chapter 8 - END Sneak-peak

It was a somber victory for Bulma. She had won back her saiyan prince. From that night into the next few weeks, he returned to sleeping next to her at night, but went to sleep quickly and woke long before she got up. And though he no longer refused to speak to her, when he did choose to, it was usually brief and harsh. Even her teasing usually met with cold glares rather than warm blushes. She wished she could say she didn't know what was wrong with her Vegeta, but she knew. His goals were crushing the life out of him. And frankly, she was quiet helpless to fix that.

She thought it was the mood between them that was causing it at first – the occasional sweating, light-headedness, and bloating. She tried getting more rest and taking a trip to the spa to relax herself. Then came the nausea, and in her gut she knew. She didn't want to believe it at first, she was too scared to. But the facts added up, the symptoms combined with the fact that during the week preparing for her war on Vegeta, she had been so busy she hadn't stopped at the pharmacy to pick up her pills. At last she broke down and bought some test sticks.

"Come on, you stupid thing," Bulma grumbled before the bathroom mirror, swatting the thing anxiously against her palm, "Just spill it already!" At last, it beeped. Bulma stared at it, her mouth hanging. "Oh…" She looked at herself in the mirror, rapidly touching her cheeks with both hands before looking at the reading again. "That's…well, that's…yeah…"

She sat on the toilet for a long moment, just taking it all in. For a moment, she was terrified. She touched her stomach, sweating like she was about to die. Then she was angry, cursing to herself and pounding her fist against the sink. But then, all other feelings out of the way, the truth at last dawned on her…and she opened her mouth in a smile.

"I'm…I'm…!" She hugged herself and squealed with excitement. She looked at the reading one last time and then tucked the stick into her pocket and rushed out of the bathroom. "I have to find Vegeta! Oh the look on his face! I wonder what he'll say! Ohh…!" She paused to fan herself for a moment and took a deep breath, putting her hands on her hips as she walked at a slower pace. "How should I do it? Should I be subtle? Maybe be like, 'Hey Vegeta! I think I might be putting on a couple pounds soon!' …No, Vegeta hates subtly. I should just come out and say it! Yeah, that's it! No, maybe…maybe I should explain it gradually, don't want to scare him _too_ much!" She laughed and broke out into a jog again, rushing out into the yard.

She ran straight to the ship, the door sliding open for her with a soft hiss. She laughed as she slid to a stop. "Hey, Vegeta! You in…" She blinked as she saw him, standing in front of several monitors, looking at star charts. He was clean, neat, showered, and… "V…Vegeta?" she asked, her heart beat rising, "Why are you wearing your armor?"

He turned a dial, zooming in a star system, his head turning his way and that. At last he paused, twisting his neck just enough to look at her, briefly. "You're here. Good." He stepped back, giving the screens a look over as he folded his arms. "I wanted to tell you something."

"Oh…really," she stuttered, coming a little closer, "Heh, that's funny, cause I wanted to tell you something too! You see—"

"I'm leaving, Bulma."

She froze. "Wha…what?"

"Immediately. You almost missed me, actually." He put his hands on the console, returning to studying the star charts. "Your father already knows. I was going to leave it to him to tell you. But since you're here, I might as well myself."

Bulma hung back, her arms spread out as she shook with horror. "What…you…" Her brow lowered. "NO! You can't!"

"It's not what you think," he rumbled, his back still to her, "I'm not abandoning you. You _are_ my wife, after all." His lips flattened as he looked down at the control panel. "And as I said before, it is for life. Back on planet Vegeta, there would be severe punishments for anyone who broke the marriage contract. My honor binds me to you. So you can relax, woman."

Bulma continued to shake. "No! You can't leave! Not _now_!"

"Would you be quiet?" he snapped, "I won't be gone forever. I am merely going elsewhere to complete my training." He grabbed the side of one of the monitors. "It is necessary, I can't reach my potential here, there are far too many…" His voice grew quieter. "Distractions."

"Is that all I am to you?! A distraction?!" His lips pursed. "You know, you have a funny way of showing gratitude, Vegeta. I have done_everything_ I can for you! You…you _married_ me and did you ever once stop to think about whether I _wanted_ to marry you?!" She panted and her face lowered, hugging herself. "Not that I regret it. You…" She turned on him again. "So you just can't!"

He grunted. "Oh really? And how exactly do you intend to stop me?" He turned around and she shrunk at the coldness in his eyes. "Hmm?" Her lips wiggled and he lifted a fist. "Did you really think you could keep me here with you on your little planet forever? I am Prince Vegeta, the destined lord of the entire universe. There is no force that can stop me." He lifted his mouth into a cruel little smile, leaning close to her. "Stay your tears and think of that, will you. Someday I will come for you and you will be a _queen_. You will stand at my side as I gaze down upon the ashes of a thousand worlds, truly supreme. All will fall before me, even Kakarot as he is made to bow to the Prince of All Saiyans." He took her chin in his white-gloved fingers. "But not you, Bulma." He chuckled, his smile tightening into a grin. "Now isn't that a future worth looking forward for?" He laughed.

Bulma grunted, her visage trembling as she fought to hold down the scream erupting inside. Vegeta continued to laugh, seemingly oblivious to this. Her teeth clenched and she struck him across the face. He stopped laughing and stared at her. She hit him again and glared, tears creeping up into the corners of her eyes. Vegeta continued to look at her and his mouth slowly closed.

"Hm. Disappointing."

She choked and grunted again. "Wake up, Vegeta." She angrily pushed aside her tears.

"And here I thought you believed in me."

"Wake up, Vegeta!"

He turned his shoulder to her, folding his arms and looking up. "That's all right, though. Your faith will soon be restored…" He eyed her and chuckled darkly. "I can wait…"

"The hell is the matter with you?!" she screamed, stopping her foot, "You're talking like…like…are you crazy?!"

"I can see that you are overwhelmed by the vastness of it all," he brushed her off, turning away again, "But now that Frieza's out of the way, it's only a matter of time. It always has been." He returned to the control console. "Go now. I won't be taking you with me."

Bulma stared at his back, a tightness welling up in her chest. She hissed as she clenched her fists at her sides. "You can't…you supposed to be here." He didn't look at her. "You can't…you _can't_!" Her heart thundered and she threw her arms back and screamed. "Vegeta, I'm pregnant!"

He stopped, his mouth freezing open slightly, the color draining from his face. "Ut…" he choked, wobblingly microscopically Bulma continued her own shaking. His eyes stared wide at the wall, almost looking dizzy. Finally, at long last, his mouth slowly closed. "Hmm. Congratulations."

"Wha…" she stared, her expression shifting to shock, "I…yeah…it…it's yours, Vegeta."

He scowled at her. "Well of _course_ it's mine! At least it had better be!"

"Ah! _No_," she glared back, leaning forward, "No I would _not_." She touched her head. "It's just…I mean…" She came up behind him and touched his shoulders. "Don't you know what this means? We're gonna have a baby! …You know? I'm gonna be a mom and you're gonna be a dad?"

He grunted, shaking her off. "That _is_ generally what pregnant means, yes, I understand the concept."

"Well it…it's wonderful news!" she exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders again and shaking him slightly, "Aren't you excited?!"

"What's there to be excited about?" he scoffed, "I admit I didn't consider the possibility, but it's only natural that offspring would eventually come about. Only time will tell what that prospect is worth."

"Is _worth_?!" she cried, wanting to slap him again, "What do you _mean_ 'is worth'?! This is a baby we're talking about, Vegeta, not real-estate!"

"The concept is similar," he mildly returned, "To a true Saiyan, an infant's only value is the potential warrior they may become. Show me the child when it's born, and perhaps then I'll show some enthusiasm."

"What the…you are _unbelievable_!" she screamed, "How _dare_ you talk about our child that way?!" She growled and folded her arms. "Well one thing's for sure, I sure hope he isn't born an _asshole_ like _you_!"

"Consider yourself lucky if he's anything like me. He'll be strong."

"Or _she_!"

"Females are usually weaker…" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking down. "But then, there have been great women among the warrior class, so perhaps…" He snorted. "It's far too soon to say." He gave her a sharp look. "Was there anything else?"

Bulma seethed and he actually jerked back as she slammed her hands on the wall on either side of him. "Yeah, you're a jerk and I hope you get hit by a meteorite or something while you're out there!" He lowered his brow at her and she pulled back, folding her arms. "Whatever. I don't need a loser like you hanging around here anywhere. I'll have this baby all by myself, you'd only get in the way!"

"Hmph." He turned his back to her again.

Bulma bit her lip angrily and ran out of the ship, refusing to let him see her cry again. She plopped on the ground and hugged herself: hugged the stomach where Vegeta's seed grew. She heard the engines fire, looking back over her shoulder with a gaping expression as the ship took off towards the sky. He was really just leaving her there. She looked down at the ground and shoved her fists to her eyes, beginning to scream as tears burst from her eyes. She cried as the ship fled through the clouds, stopping abruptly as it vanished out of sight. Bulma blinked the rest of the tears away and swallowed. "Vegeta…"

Vegeta rested his arm against the edge of one of the ship's windows, watching as stars came into view and the Earth grew small. Then he felt it – that heaviness on his chest. Vegeta looked down at his breastplate and touched a hand to it, his brow lowering as he growled softly. The moment passed and he walked from the window, taking a comfortable position in one of the ship's chairs, closing his eyes and entering a calm, meditative state. There he sat like that for a long while. Then he heard a soft beeping. His eyes slowed cracked open.

"Hey homeboy."

"Huh?!" he snapped up. He looked to the side and saw Bulma's face smiling softly on one of the monitors.

"Okay, I get it. You need to get away for a while." She smiled and lowered her brow intensely. "But don't think that means you're getting away from me. You're still in my Dad's ship and _I'm_ gonna be keeping tabs on you."

He glared at her and turned away, closing his eyes again. "Fine, whatever, just don't get in my way."

She giggled, touching a hand lightly to her chest. "I would _never_."

"Hmph."

She ran a finger across her lips, watching Vegeta's face through her own screen back on Earth. "So…got any names?"

"What?"

"For the baby, stupid."

He grunted. "If it's a girl, I could care less. But a first born son will be named Vegeta. That is how my father always intended his line to follow."

"Well that's boring. I don't want _two_ Vegeta's to put up with." She hummed, putting a finger to her chin. "How about Denim…or Trunks…or Boxer? Hmm, I think I like those last two."

"And what exactly is wrong with Vegeta?" he demanded, opening an eye.

"I told you, that's boring! Besides, I'm not gonna have some Saiyan king deciding what I'm gonna call _my_ son! If it is a boy, that is. Now, for some good girl names…"

"Call the brat whatever you want," he snapped, glaring at her, "I don't care. All I care about—"

"Is being the strongest there is, I know." She winked. He looked at her for a long moment, snorting and turning away again. "Vegeta?"

"What?"

She gave him an earnest look. "Please be careful. Come back safely."

"I will," he stated confidently. He gave a long pause and then turned to the monitor with a sharp look. "And when I return, I _will_ be a Super Saiyan."

She just smiled. "Of course you will."

Months later, a saiyan prince stood on a barren world. Months later, a woman screamed in a hospital bed. To this human woman, a violet haired prince was born. As the newborn cried, far away, his father also cried, gold flickering through his hair, bloodied fists upturned to a storm.

_~~~~Sneak peak of A Good Man~~~~_

**Next time on Dragon Ball Z…**

Vegeta gritted his teeth and shifted his foot back, strengthening his stance, no longer so sure this was going to be an easy fight after all. Goku bared his teeth as well, glancing rapidly back to his son.

"Goten!" he shouted, "Take your mom and Bulma and get out of here!"

"But…Dad!" Goten protested, about to power up himself.

"Don't argue, just get out of here!" he continued to bark.

Goten looked quickly at Trunks, powered up next to Vegeta.

"Do it now!"

At last, Goten obeyed, taking off the ground, picking up Bulma and Chi-Chi, and flying off with them.

"Vegeta, Trunks, no!" Bulma cried as she was carried away.

Goku grunted fiercely, looking now to Vegeta and Trunks. "Trunks, you better get out of here too," he advised.

"He's not going anywhere, Kakarot!" Vegeta snapped, standing blazing next to his equally golden haired son, "A real warrior never runs from a fight!"

"Vegeta, don't be stupid!" Goku shouted, "You heard what they said! Are you really going to risk your son to save your pride?!"

"I'm not risking anything, you can handle this, can't you son?" he stated pointedly.

Trunks growled and heavily nodded. "You bet I can, Dad."

Goku gritted his teeth and looked at the justiciars, now truly a sight to be reckoned with as they stood together, blazing with power. "I'm going to ask you one more time," he called to them, "Please, stop this! You're making a mistake!"

Nevrrest, a burning tower of red, moved deadly forward. "You seek to oppose us, Kakarot Goku?"

Goku's expression hardened. "I won't attack you…I think you have good intentions at heart. But if you try to take Trunks or Vegeta, I'll stop you."

"Dangerous…" she hissed, "Standing in the way of justice could be considered a criminal offense…" She smiled cruelly. "But who would dare arrest the Legendary Super Saiyan? If you wish to get in our way, we'll simple have to get in _your_ way." She shifted her fierce gaze to the other Saiyan. "Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans," she called in a mighty voice, "On the charges of xenocide, mass murder, unlawful imprisonment, torture, and theft, this day I declare you a prisoner of The Justice."

_Thank you for reading! Please return again for more in Dragon Ball Z: A Good Man_


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